


Moondance - by Epeeblade

by epeeblade



Series: Sex Corps [8]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epeeblade/pseuds/epeeblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Major Hank Tappen has become Sub Henry, owned by one Guard Ian. It's time he starts to figure out just who Sub Henry is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moondance - by Epeeblade

**Author's Note:**

> I set out to write a short missing scene. This is what happened. . .
> 
> Thanks to lapillus for the beta. All mistakes are my own.
> 
>  
> 
> Title comes from a Nightwish song.

### I. The Taking  


_Prepare yourself. When you're ready, come into the playroom. _

Hank stared into the full-length mirror stretched along the wall of this borrowed bedroom, not quite sure he liked what he saw there. This morning he woke up and he was Major Henry Tappen, temporary captive of the queen of Harmony on planet 328. And now, after this afternoon's ceremony he was just Hank, sub to Guard Ian.

Ian had brought them back here, to this suite of rooms in the palace nearly identical to where Hank and Karl had been housed while waiting for the queen's decision. By now he was bored of high ceilings and detailed furniture, missing the cozy feel of Ian's apartment in the center of the city. He suspected Ian had borrowed the suite to make this consummation memorable.

He touched the navy blue collar wrapped around his neck, not finding a seam. No, this sucker wasn't due to come off for another two years. He'd heard jokes about the military being a yoke around someone's neck, but this was a bit too literal for him.

All right, he might be stalling. He knew Ian was waiting for him, just beyond that door. And here he stood, watching himself in the mirror, the bottle of oil still capped in one hand. Hank didn't recognize the man in the mirror, the one naked except for the collar, lips kiss-swollen and hair askew. That man seemed to fit in here, a sub just as artfully arranged as the furniture in this room.

He was acting like a virgin before her wedding night. Fuck, don't let that thought get to the boys back on the Mercury; he'd never live it down. Though that's what Ian had done to him, claiming Hank with his collar, showing that he was owned. It was a bit more blatant of a symbol than a wedding ring. And here on Harmony, it meant so much more.

Of course, everyone in this damn city had seen Ian make that claim. Hank's cheeks burned, remembering how it felt, just when he thought it was all over, time to go back to reality, get back on the Mercury and do his job. And then Ian spoke up. Nobody had ever fought for him like that before. Hank moved to touch his collar again, then forced his fingers away.

"Man up, Major," he said to his reflection, standing at attention and shooting off a neat salute. If this were his assignment now, he'd damn well do his duty.

Even if that duty meant bending over and spreading his legs. Damn it, he hadn't signed up for the sex corps, he wasn't a pretty little slut like Ackles. Hank had no fucking clue what he was doing here.

He closed his eyes for a moment and thought of Ian. His master. No, not like that. Ian, the man who showed him the city, introduced Hank to his family, made him understand what people on Harmony were like. The man who'd taken Hank to a sexual high he'd never experienced before.

And despite everything, he trusted Ian. He had to. Hank never would have agreed otherwise.

Oh, the UP might think they held the strings, but the queen had sat him down, the slate with the contract on the heavy wooden table before him, a stylus lying across it. "If you want to stay, I can make it an order," she'd said. "I can make it seem like I forced you to do this. But I won't if you truly wish to leave."

He'd picked up the stylus and signed the damn contract.

Well, no one had ever accused him of being smart.

Time to put out or shut up, he thought, uncapping the bottle of oil. Hank had to turn away from the mirror as he did it, slicked his fingers and probed at his own ass. He propped one leg up on the chair at the foot of the bed, liking how he was using an exotic piece of furniture - soft green fabric with gold embroidery on dark polished wood - as a tool for this almost obscene act. Somehow it always seemed more erotic when someone else did it. He guessed it had something to do with being in the moment and all.

He didn't know how far Ian wanted him to go. Hank went with two fingers, stretching himself carefully. That should be enough, he hoped, enough to make him open, but keep him tight. He put the oil away and wiped his fingers off on a towel that seemed to appear out of nowhere, folded over the back of the chair as if it had always been there.

Enough stalling. Hank set his shoulders back and strode through the door to the playroom.

### ***

Ian didn't like the look in Hank's eyes when his sub walked through the door. Otherwise, he was caught in the beauty of this otherworldly man from the stars. Ian had known too many subs who indulged in artifice - using cosmetics to line their eyes, or blush to rosy their nipples, even one who plumped his phallus. Hank wasn't like that at all. It was like he had no idea what he truly looked like.

Those eyes - so blue the ocean would be jealous - seemed to pierce him from across the room. Ian had seen much in those orbs: Hank being cocky or making jokes, Hank caught up in twisted pain, Hank deep in the throes of desire. But he had never seen the expression that faced him right now. Ian never wanted to see fear in Hank's eyes.

Ian did the only thing he could do. He stepped forward and caught Hank's face between his palms, tilting it upward so he could kiss those lips. Hank opened his mouth, let Ian control the kiss, capturing those plump lips between his teeth and bite down with gentle pressure.

This first time would set the tone of their time together. Even though Hank had submitted to him before, this meant something completely different. Ian had to begin as he meant for them to go on. Use a strong hand, his mother always said, but a gentle lead. He worried neither would work well with Hank. Hank wasn't a Harmony trained sub, one who knew his destiny since birth. Hank had come late to his submission. It was still so new and fragile. Ian needed to cherish that for the gift it was.

And since Hank would be the first sub he'd taken for longer than a fortnight, really it was Ian who should have fear in his eyes.

"Have you prepared yourself?" he asked, pulling away to peer into Hank's eyes.

"Yes, sir," Hank answered.

Ian counted to ten before responding. He had to do this right. "When we're alone, I want you to call me Ian."

Confusion crossed Hank's eyes and the change in expression was such a relief from the fear. He almost had 'his' Hank back. "But I thought. . ."

Ian tilted his head. "Out there you're Sub Henry and I'm Dom Ian. You will say 'yes, sir' and 'whatever my master wishes.' But here, unless we're working a scene where I've asked otherwise, call me by my name alone."

"You know I thought I had this figured out." Hank looked a bit sheepish.

Still better than fear. "I won't. . .I'm not going to punish you for making a mistake." Ian shook his head. "But you need to trust me. Follow my lead. This is my world."

"Some day I want to take you to mine," Hank said with a little half grin.

Good. Ian felt the tension lift a bit. He stepped back a pace, removing his hands from Hank reluctantly. Begin as you mean to go on. "Present standing," he ordered.

In the playroom, Ian could focus only on the scene. If he needed something, it wasn't farther than a thought away. But it also helped situate the mindset of the sub, signifying a place for discipline and order. Equipment filled the room, cuffs dangled from the walls and a rack of tools reminded the sub that any of them could be used on him. If his master wished it, of course.

Ian held himself stiff and aloof, taking on the mode of master. He had worked hard to make this mean something for Hank. He'd chosen the palace, the specifics of the playroom, all to help sooth Hank into his new role.

Hank gave him a little nod, showing that he understood. The scene began now. He clasped his hands behind his neck and spread his legs, back and shoulders straight. Ian circled him, inspecting his form.

He could not keep his hands from Hank's body. As he moved Ian stroked his fingers across those taut abs, along the curve of his waist, up the length of spine. Hank was so pale, except where the sun had touched his skin here in Harmony, his face and chest and arms gleamed golden instead of creamy. Ian made a mental note to put sun bathing into Hank's daily routine, wanting to see that tight ass tanned golden.

When he completed the circle, facing Hank once more, Ian placed a finger under Hank's chin, forcing him to look up. "Who do you belong to?" he asked softly.

Hank looked determined as he answered. "You. Ian. I belong to you."

He nodded. "What could you do to show me that you are mine?"

Hank licked his lips and Ian nearly shivered at the sight, barely keeping himself from leaning forward to taste. After a moment, Hank finally answered. "I could, maybe suck your dick?"

"Kneel." Ian moved back, letting Hank drop into position.

Nothing thrilled him so much as this - seeing a sub drop into willing submission, falling to his knees merely because Ian asked. And knowing that Hank was no ordinary sub, that he didn't do this lightly, make it all the more powerful.

Ian sucked in a breath, his heart beat loudly in his chest and his cock strained against the tight pants he'd laced on just for this scene. "Keep your hands behind your back," he ordered, undoing the lacings and freeing himself. Eventually Hank would learn all these things, how to dress and undress his master, even with his teeth if it were required.

But now, now all Hank needed was to kneel back, a quirk of a grin on his face, arms shifted to the small of his back. Ian flushed at the sight, his arousal heating his body till he felt all aflame. "Take it." He stroked down his shaft, holding it out for Hank to take between his lips.

From the moment the hot suction closed around him, Ian was lost. He caught his hand in Hank's messy hair. He wanted more to hold on to - must remember to tell him to let it grow longer. Hank looked up at him, his expression sultry and a bit too full of himself, as if he knew exactly the effect of his hot wet mouth.

Hank pulled off with an obscene slurp. "Want to eat your come," he growled, voice deep with lust.

Ian shuddered. It would kill some of his plans, but Harmony's tits, he wanted that, wanted to fill Hank up with his seed and make him swallow it down. "Do it." He shoved himself between those lips once more, feeding himself to his willing sub.

Then Hank didn't have time to school his expression, so caught up with his movements, making it so good for Ian as he bobbed his head. Ian pushed into that slick heat, gasping at the feel of Hank's teeth as they lightly scraped his dick. He gave in to his orgasm, pulling out just as he started to come, so Hank had to catch the drops on his tongue.

Ian released his hold on Hank's hair, realizing he might have been pulling a bit too hard. He took a deep breath, attempting to gain control of himself. "Good. Very good," he praised. It was important to reward good behavior.

The sight of Hank licking the last of Ian's come off his lips made Ian want to tumble him to the floor. Instead he tucked himself away. He had to stake his claim now, show Hank he wasn't in control, no matter how quickly he'd shattered Ian's composure.

Ian thought he might have to do that a lot with Hank.

"Stand up." Ian collected a set of padded cuffs and moved behind Hank, locking the chains around his wrists, keeping his arms crossed behind him. They'd done this much before. "Bend over the bench there."

Hank eyed the bench before moving to obey. Ian suspected his sub was trying to figure out exactly how Ian planned to use it. The bench stood waist high, with a blood red cushion over the top where Hank's belly would rest. Hooks and slots were arranged strategically around the wooden structure. When Hank moved into position, his chest and head would hang over the edge, all the more perfect to play with.

"Spread your legs," Ian ordered, before moving forward and kicking them apart himself. Hank could go farther.

"What the. . ." Hank murmured as the cuffs emerged from the bottom of the bench, securing his ankles and forcing his legs to stay spread.

Ian smoothed his hand down one taut buttock. "You've seen spreader bars before." Ian had been the one to show Hank, demonstrating the variety of equipment at the Schola. He loved the way this opened Hank up, spread him and showed off his hole, gaping and glistening for Ian's pleasure and use.

"Seeing is one thing," Hank grumbled.

Ian circled to the other side, never letting his hands drop from Hank's body, smoothing up along his back as he moved. Hank bit his lip as he looked up, his expression wary, but not fearful. Ian could accept that, he wanted his sub to be a bit off-center, to not know what to expect next. And now that his own arousal had been quelled for the moment he could enjoy it, savor Hank's movements and draw it out all the sweeter.

He tweaked Hank's nipples, already standing up before his attention. Hank shivered and groaned. "I want those pierced," Ian said. "Later we'll go downtown and I'll take you to the piercing master."

"Fuck," Hank murmured. "That would be weird."

"Hmm." Ian picked up the pair of clamps he'd laid aside for this purpose and tightened the first on one nipple. "Good weird? Imagine the bite through your skin. If I wanted to remind you of your status I would simply just pull at the chain between them, like so." He attached the other clamp and tugged on the chain until it was taut.

Hank let out a string of amusing expletives. "Mother fucking son of a Confed whore, that hurts."

Ian leaned down so his lips brushed Hank's ear. "But it hurts so good, doesn't it?"

He was gratified to hear Hank's moan in response. "How do you do that?"

With a chuckle, Ian moved back behind Hank, sliding a finger along his crack, while his other hand cupped Hank's length, hard and slippery with arousal. Good, he would be worried otherwise. Hank was a sub of strong passions and Ian had to tame them to his will.

"Can you hold off coming until I order it? Or do you need a ring?"

"Um." Hank looked over his shoulder, a blush tingeing his cheeks. "I think I can hold off."

Ian released Hank's cock and let a single slap fall against his buttocks. "You will." Or else there would be punishment, he decided.

Hank swallowed before answering. "Yes, Ian."

The sound of his name was nearly as good as hearing Master from Hank's lips. Ian turned to hide his grin, his utter glee at hearing Hank.

But then Hank nearly broke his heart when he asked, haltingly as if forcing the words out: "You gonna beat me now?"

"Oh, Hank, no." Ian set his hands at Hank's waist, thumbs making reassuring circles against his skin. How could he have forgotten Hank's ordeal at the hands of Mistress Albaney? He had no understanding of how things worked here, so Hank couldn't know Ian's promise in their contract was binding - he would not use a whip, a crop or even a paddle unless Hank had given permission. Ian knew Hank wasn't a pain slut, he didn't crave it as some subs did.

"Won't do anything you won't like," Ian swore, bending to trail kisses along Hank's back and down his buttocks, feeling the tension in the tight muscles fade. He smiled to himself before bending to lick tentatively at Hank's entrance, tasting the sweet oil that glistened on his skin.

"Holy hell," Hank swore and that was more like it.

Ian lapped at the oil, wanting to find out what Hank tasted underneath it, catching a hint of musk and smoky skin. Hank's flavor burst upon his tongue, and Ian delved deeper, lips pressed tight against his sub. He began to hum, thrilled at how Hank trembled beneath him. Maybe he'd never had this done to him before.

His cock began to fill at that thought, Ian imagined he was the first here like this, the first to give Hank pleasure this way. He parted Hank's buttocks and blew gently before pulling away. "All right?"

Hank squirmed in his bonds. "Fuck yes."

Ian teased a finger inside, checking Hank's readiness. He frowned at how tightly Hank clenched around him, far too tight for him to simply slide inside.

Ian selected a thick plug that was still shy of his own girth. It would open Hank up nicely. He eased it inside, watching to make sure Hank opened for him. "You're not quite ready for me," he explained, twisting the plug until it sank all the way to its base. "Soon I'll make you wear one of these all day long, so I can just slip inside you whenever I want."

Hank groaned at his words, all but writhing as Ian played with the plug, sliding it in and out, tilting it to catch the ridge of muscle inside.

"C'mon man," Hank whined. "You, I don't know if I can. . ."

Ian pulled the plug out with a soft plop. "Good boy," he praised Hank for letting him know he was close. Once again he unlaced his trousers, freeing his cock with a sigh of relief. And then he slid inside.

He had to close his eyes and give himself a moment. It had been far too long since he'd been inside Hank, their one night together had hardly been enough. It had only ignited something inside Ian, a desire to possess and own that he'd never encountered before. It reminded him of stories other doms told, when they'd found a long-term sub - how something inside them had flared, a desire to make that sub theirs. Now, finally, he understood.

Sliding inside Hank quenched that fire, made him feel like that empty space inside himself had finally been filled. Ian claimed his sub, pierced Hank's body with his cock and marked him with his come.

"Come, Henry, come," he gasped, his orgasm once again approaching far too fast.

Hank let out a low moan, his body clenching around Ian as he finally gave in and let himself come.  Ian gasped, holding tightly to Hank's waist as he came, pleasure tingling down to his very toes.

"You're heavy," Hank grumbled.

Ian pushed himself up with a laugh. He never knew what would come out of Hank's mouth next and truly, he would not have it any other way.

### ***

Nothing killed the afterglow like Karl showing up.

Ian had just gotten around to undoing the chains, easing Hank up from the bench and Hank didn't quite know what to do from here. The last time they'd done this they'd been in a bed. Then the door had chimed and snapped them both out of the mood.

He'd appreciated Ian leaving them alone in the sitting room, though Hank would have liked to be wearing a little bit more than the pale blue pants he'd thrown on after Ian had gone to see who was outside their door. Karl didn't say anything, though, so Hank didn't scramble for more clothing.

"I wanted to see you before I left." Karl curved his hands around the mug of steaming tye Hank had set out them for it both. Karl was dressed in his duty uniform, his pack propped up against the wall. It reminded Hank that he had left his back in the suite he and Karl shared while waiting for the queen's decision.

Yeah, Karl would be going back with Morgan and Ackles, back to the Mercury, back to the Reclamation project. Hank would be left behind in Harmony. "Going so soon?" He stared at his own cup, watching the smoke swirl around the lip.

"I need to be debriefed. Honestly I do have plenty to share with the rest of the team." Karl paused to take a sip. "I hope to be working closely with the team at the new base. Right now no other anthropologist knows as much about Harmony as I."

"Once they build the damn thing." Even if Karl did get assigned to the new base, there was no guarantee Hank would ever see him. Ian would determine the course of his life for the next two years.

"It'll go up fast." Karl looked over to the closed door before lowering his voice as he asked. "Will you be all right?"

Hank pushed the mug away and sat back in his chair, spreading his legs, his toes clenching in the soft material that made up the floor. "I'm gonna have to be, Karl." No fucking way out of it now.

"If there's anything I can do. . ."

"Karl," he interrupted. The last thing he needed was Karl guilt tripping over leaving Hank behind. They'd been through a lot together, and protecting the civilian had been second nature to him.

"You can always comm," Karl hissed quickly. "They said you can keep yours, since you'll be working with the base."

Fuck, he wouldn't put it past Johnson and Morgan, to come in with guns blazing if Hank changed his mind. Although they'd all have to answer to the UP, since it would lose them the chance at Harmony's tech. "Thank you," he said finally, accepting Karl's offer for how it was meant.

The door to the adjoining room opened with a hiss and a ripple. Hank had never heard the shimmering doors make a sound before, so he guessed Ian had done it on purpose. He couldn't help but smile at Ian as he walked in. His body still tingled, his nipples sore and ass aching from their short scene together. Man he hoped Karl couldn't smell the sex on him.

Hank felt his cheeks burn at the thought. He looked back at Karl who had a puzzled look on his face.

"I was wondering if you'd take dinner with us," Ian said, coming up and putting his hands on Hank's shoulders.

Karl shook his head. "I have to meet the shuttle. I'm actually late already."

Suddenly Hank didn't want Karl to leave. His heart thumped wildly and he swallowed down the fear in his throat.

"You are welcome to visit," Ian said.

Karl smiled. "Thank you. I think I will."

Hank grinned back. If Ian was the only person in all of Harmony Hank could trust, he couldn't have picked a better man.

### II. The waiting

The call came not long afterward. Ian had prodded them both into the shower, which was much larger than the one in Ian's own apartment. Hank enjoyed the warm water pouring down from the ceiling like rain on his sore and tired muscles, the steamy air rich with the cedar scent of the thick soap Ian used from the pumps in the walls. He felt like he'd run a marathon, despite the only real thing he'd done was have some incredible sex. They'd stumbled back to the sinfully comfortable bed. Hank nuzzled the fluffy pillow, thinking he might not mind spending the next two years as a living sex toy.

And then the tele had gone off.

"All subs and guards," the queen's voice came through loud and clear. Hank rolled over to get a good look at her face, and it looked stormy. "Search the palace and locate Sub Jensen. Contact me immediately when you find him."

The screen winked out of existence. What the hell had Ackles gotten himself into now?

Ian frowned. "I must go." He went to the large wardrobe in the corner of the room and withdrew his guard uniform, slipping it on quickly. Hank wondered if Ian had stocked the wardrobe beforehand, or if the uniform appeared simply because Ian wished it.

Hank pushed the covers back. "Where do you think he is?" He wondered where he could get himself one of those uniforms, though Hank wasn't entirely certain he could pull off the skirt. Right now he wished for his jumpsuit. Maybe if he thought hard enough it would appear in the wardrobe too.

"I'm sure if the queen knew she wouldn't have summoned the guards. What are you doing?"

Hank had slipped on his pants, though he couldn't find the sandals he'd worn when he'd entered this suite from the collaring ceremony. "Getting dressed? Don't really want to wander the halls of the castle naked, you know?"

"You're staying here."

Hank rubbed at his ear. "Scuse me, did I just hear that right?"

Ian finished lacing up his sandals and straightened to face Hank. "I don't have time to discuss this now. Henry, you will do as I say and wait here for me." And then he walked out of the room, the door rippling open long enough to let him leave before closing shut.

Fuck it, Hank would go after him barefoot. He made for the door, which stayed stubbornly closed. He slammed his hand against it. "C'mon, open." Nothing happened.

Bastard had locked him in!

### ***

Hank paced the bedroom, his bare feet wearing a trail in the soft carpeting. At first he had waited, hoping Ian would come back or the damn door would open on its own. When that didn't happen, he'd explored the suite, lingering in the playroom, running his fingers over the equipment in there, wondering if Ian would next bind him to the giant wooden X, or lock him in the metal cage in the corner. Hank had shivered. It was very different being willingly bound in some sexual game and locked in his room like a spoiled child.

That's when he'd turned and left, unable to stay there anymore. Hank wished for some exercise equipment, wondering if there was some trick to making things appear out of nothing. He lounged in the low couch in the sitting room, contemplating food from the Dumb Waiter, but his stomach tightened at the thought.

That put him back to pacing again, unable to relax or even try sleeping again. He gave in to the impulse and touched the glass window that stretched the length of one wall. It opened, rippling away like water pouring from a fountain and let him out onto the terrace that looked over the city. The red brick felt warm under his feet. Red trams speckled across the sky, moving more frenzied than usual. Hank wished he could see more, where the guards were looking for Ackles, whatever the hell had happened to him.

Because all he could do was sit and stew and wonder. Had Ackles run? Was this some gambit of Morgan's? Should Hank expect his comrades grappling down the building to get him out?

Hank gave up and went back inside. He could keep guessing all night - and the sun was rapidly setting - or he could sit and wait like a good little sub for his master to return.

Damn it, Ian. This, this wasn't what Hank wanted; it wasn't what he expected of Ian either. But why should he have thought that? Ian hadn't made any promises, except to abide by the contract and Hank hadn't exactly thought to put "I need a job" in there.

He wouldn't be able to deal with hours upon hours spent in Ian's little apartment, sitting on the tiny balcony, waiting for Ian to come home from doing his job. And he'd tell Ian that as soon as he got back. Hank didn't want that to be his future.

For now. . . Hank hopped up on the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles. He summoned the tele, grinning as the screen appeared at just the right height. "All right, you are gonna show me everything I need to know. . ." He was tired of operating at a deficit when it came to his place here.

### ***

"You will never lock me in again."

Ian should have expected Hank's stormy words and expression. He had hoped to find the other man long asleep in their bed. It would certainly make things easier. Right now Ian was far too exhausted to have this conversation.

He dropped onto an armchair, hanging his head between his knees. "I didn't intend to . . . I only wanted you to be safe."

Hank knelt before him, putting a warm hand on Ian's knee. "Hey. I probably have seen more combat than you ever will. I can take care of myself."

Ian looked up, mesmerized by Hank's bright blue eyes. He reached out and brushed a finger along a stubbly cheek. "I'm sure Sub Jensen said that as well. There are whispers he's been abducted."

"Abducted." Hank frowned, a deep furrow appearing in his forehead.

"The queen gave permission for more of your kind to enter the city. They're working some machinery on the blue level."

"Probably a bio scan," Hank's words seemed far away.

"She wouldn't have ever let them in if she thought we could find him on our own." Ian turned his caress into cupping Hank's cheek. He wanted to bring Hank back from wherever he had gone. "I can't risk you."

Hank gave him a twisted smile. "Ackles is pretty and well-trained. No one's going to steal some half-trained sub who can't keep his mouth shut."

"You do yourself a disservice."

"Ian." Hank pulled away and pushed himself to his feet, looking down on Ian. "You can't just keep me in a box. Oh, fuck that, don't want to give you ideas. No boxes, all right?"

Ian hid his grin before looking up to meet Hank's gaze. "No boxes," he repeated.

"I've looked on the tele. The subs that have other duties, get them assigned by their doms. A lot of them work with their doms. I can't just sit around waiting for you to come home."

Ian closed his eyes, feeling so weary. He needed sleep. Although he didn't miss Hank saying 'home' and it gave him hope that Hank had started to accept his place here. "There has never been a sub guard."

"Well, fuck it, when have I done anything you guys expected?"

"Hank. . ." He was so tired he was slipping, losing his control.

And then he felt Hank's gentle hands on his calves, undoing the laces of his sandals. "I'm not done arguing," he warned, slipping first one, then the other off. "But you look like hell."

Ian let Hank help him to bed. He tilted when he stood and nearly fell, but Hank kept him upright long enough to slip out of uniform before pulling down the covers and letting him crawl into bed. His eyes fluttered closed and he fell quickly into sleep.

But not quickly enough to miss Hank sneaking out of their suite.

### ***

He didn't recognize the girl. She was clearly Space Corps, probably a tech by the way she looked at that circuit board; Hank knew men who looked at their lovers that way. As he got closer he could see the rank pips on her collar - corporal, enlisted then. She knelt surrounded by tools and wires, the normally smooth wall of the palace somehow torn open to reveal its inner workings, although Hank wondered if Harmony had made itself what she wanted to see.

Hank had taken the lift to the blue level, not knowing where to go from there, but he'd lucked out when he found this door open. He hadn't expected the torn out wires and circuits, nor the girl who knelt at her work, so intent she didn't hear him sneak up on her.

"Someone's up late."

She jumped at his words, nearly dropping the board in her hand. He gave her a grin when she turned to look at him. Hank didn't recognize her from the Reclamation project, but he thought he might have seen her on ship once or twice.

"Sorry," she said, her cheeks flushed. "I couldn't sleep. I hate leaving a job undone."

"I'm surprised any of you is getting any sleep, what with Ackles missing." He sat next to her, peering at the circuit board. What the heck was she trying to do? None of this made any sense to him.

His eyes flickered to the trail of wires and connectors leading from the bio scanner. "So what is it you're trying to do anyway? Connect the bio scanner to the city computer? That's pretty fucking ambitious. What's it gonna do anyway? Boost the signal?"

That seemed to wake her up a bit. "I'm hoping that by giving the city tech bio scanning capability it'll screw with anyone who's trying to jam our scanners. Just what the hell do you know about it?"

Hank nearly laughed, he couldn't help grinning. "Corporal, you have no idea who I am, do you?"

"Um," she mumbled. "One of the subs?"

This time he did laugh. Why should she know who he was? Hank was dressed just like any of the subs here, half-naked with a collar to match. He caught himself tugging at his collar and snatched his hand away. "Can't blame you for thinking that. Let me introduce myself - Major Henry Tappen, Hank to my friends."

"Oh stars," she whispered, taking the hand he held out and shaking it tightly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. . ."

"Didn't know the UP sold me for access to the tech here?" He might be a bit angrier about it now, after Ian had locked him in their room. They'd given him over into another man's power with no thought to the quality of the man. It put them smack up there with the Confed when it came to ethics. He wondered how the UP had a leg to stand on when it came to fighting slavery when it hardly treated its military any better.

"No," she answered. "The terms of the trade agreement aren't public record yet. And I would have no reason to have access to them. I'm just a technician. Sir." She pushed the circuit board back into place in the wall as if in proof.

"Don't call me 'sir.' As you can see, it doesn't really apply anymore."

"Speaking of that," she began.

"He's asleep," Hank said, guessing she was asking about Ian. Why else would he be out without his master after all? "And I wanted to see how the search was going. The whole palace is freaking out about it, you know. I just couldn't sit and wait while Ian was out searching."

"And Ian is. . .?"

Hank frowned hard at her. This wouldn't get any easier no matter how many times he would have to answer.  "My master. And one of the guards here. They've been scouring the city looking while I've been twiddling my thumbs. So, really, Corporal, if there's anything I can do to help, please let me know."

"Well, anything you know about the tech would. . ." she stopped in mid sentence.

After a while, he heard it too. A low level beeping coming from the bio scanner. "I didn't do it, I swear."

She pulled herself up and moved to engage the holographic display. "I think we might have something. Do you know how the comm system works here?"

He couldn't help grinning at her. For once, his knowledge would be helpful. "Corporal, allow me to introduce you to the tele."

Everything seemed to move quickly after that. The girl - Corporal Gyllenhaal, who had eventually told him her name - went to wake her fellow officers while Hank went to Ian. He wanted to be in on this, no question about it. But he realized he did have to ask for permission first.

No matter how much he hated the thought. He had to turn it around in his head, think of Ian as his commanding officer.

Though he never would encounter a commanding officer like this, curled up in bed, lips parted and dark eyelashes fluttering against the pale sheets. Hank sat on the side of the bed, stroking his fingers through Ian's hair, hoping to wake him gently.

A strong hand seized his wrist and Ian came awake all at once, dark eyes still heavy with sleep. "Henry?"

So odd that Ian was stronger than him. "They got the scanner working. So they can find Ackles. The queen is rounding everyone up in the great hall. . ."

"Everyone?" Ian pushed himself up, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

Hank cleared his throat. "I went to the blue level to see if I could help." Fuck, he hoped admitting that wouldn't get him confined to quarters straight off. "I've been here longer than they have, I know things they don't."

Ian waved his hand, pushing the explanation away. "And? Did you?"

He really wasn't much of a help at all, except maybe by giving Gyllenhaal time while the bio scanner could work before she started taking things apart again. "Don't think I can take the credit for it, but I was there when Corporal Gyllenhaal got the scanner working. I want to be part of the rescue mission."

"I didn't think you were especially fond of Sub Jensen."

Stars, had he been that transparent? Hank looked down at the covers, tracing a finger through the neat stitching. Ackles had been everything Hank never wanted to be. The scut was beautiful, cocky, and though he'd never shown it around Hank, submissive. His whole career had been about spreading his legs whenever required. Hank never wanted to be a whore for the UP.

"It doesn't matter if I like the guy or not," he finally said. Hank didn't know if he'd ever consider Ackles a friend, but the scut had offered to help him out and Hank would have been an idiot to ignore that. "He's Corps. We take care of our own." Although Hank didn't know if he really could be considered corps right now. "Please. Can I?"

"You're asking permission?" Ian seemed surprised. "And would you be content if I said no?"

Hank frowned. "I'd have to be, won't I?"

He waited a heartbeat before Ian finally answered. "Well, grab me some clothing then."

"What?"

"I'm not letting you go alone." Ian pushed himself out of bed. He stood there, looking magnificent and powerful just as he was, gloriously nude, his tanned skin glowing in the dim light.

Hank grinned up at him. "Fuck, yeah," he said and he hoped Ian understood that it meant 'thank you.'

### ***  


Hank loved how Ian looked in his guard uniform - the golden breastplate gleamed in the light, accentuating his broad shoulders and muscled arms. Even the skirt - strips of brown leather - which should have looked silly, only showed off how lean and powerful Ian's legs were. Hank wondered if the uniform looked half as good on himself.

Of course he couldn't wear his corps uniform, even if it hadn't been destroyed his first week in Harmony. For all intents and purposes he belonged to the city now, a citizen himself by virtue of the collar around his neck.

Ian looked uneasy as Hank approached him in the terrace. He didn't want Ian to change his mind now. "Don't make me regret this, Henry," he sighed. "By all rights I should send you back to our rooms."

"Hah, you already gave permission, you can't take it back!" he teased gently. When Hank saw how upset Ian still looked, he leaned toward him, cupped Ian's faced in his heads, so close their foreheads touched. "Ian, trust me, I've probably seen more combat in the last year than you have your entire life. If anything I should be worried about you."

Ian gave him a small smile at that, probably discarding the idea as ridiculous. But hey, if it made him smile, Hank was all for it. He vibrated with excitement, finally being able to do something, make use of his training. Part of him thrilled at the chance to show Ian just how capable he was. Hank did not want to be left behind again.

Hank saw Gyllenhaal look their way, but she never approached them. When Morgan and the other corps soldiers gathered he itched to join them. It wasn't that long ago he was a member of Morgan's team, following him into the city for the first time.

"We're under the command of the master guard," Ian pointed her out in a low voice as they boarded the tram. Her breastplate had intricate etchings - a pattern of leaves and plants, as well as a set of large epaulets on her shoulders.

Ian's brow furrowed, Hank worried that would become a permanent condition. "Normally you would kneel at my feel whenever we rode a tram. But these aren't normal circumstances."

And there was hardly room to sit, the entire car filled with guards and Morgan's team. "I'll stand," he said, hopefully he wouldn't draw attention to himself, since most of the other guards were standing as well.

"Sub-whipped," he heard someone hiss as the doors closed.

Ian stiffened, his shoulders tight and tense. Hank could guess what the phrase meant and now he wanted to punch someone out on Ian's behalf. He scanned the guards, trying to determine the culprit.

Before he could pursue that unwise course of action, screens flickered to life and the queen started giving her orders for the mission. Hank eyed the map that appeared, wishing he had more time to commit it to memory. This place liked buildings that doubled as mazes.

Morgan approached the front of the tram. "Listen up. Your people," he turned to the master guard, "should clear the way for us. Take down Adrian for all I care, but me and my people are going straight for Jensen."

Of course Ackles was the priority, but a dark part of Hank wondered if Morgan would assemble an army to rescue anyone else. Of course, Hank's own situation differed significantly from Ackles'. Even as the thought occurred to him, Hank realized he had it all twisted around - he might have signed his contract with Ian willingly, but Ackles had devoted his whole career to this kind of screwing around. He damn well should have considered something like this a possibility - especially with the way subs were often passed around in Harmony - a kidnapping didn't seem so outrageous.

"Stay close to me," Ian hissed as the tram began its descent.

Hank unhooked his sidearm from his belt and nodded. He wanted Ian right where he could see him, and protect him if necessary. Those spear-like weapons were great when it came to range fighting, but he couldn't see how any fight in close quarters would be anything but a clusterfuck. He was glad Ian had retrieved Hank's own weapon from wherever they'd kept the confiscated guns, reassured by it's familiar weight.

The tram finally landed - they had gone all the way to the ground, ignoring terraces above in order to get as close to Adrian's location as possible. Hank knew the duke was holding Ackles in a sub-level, which meant they'd have to fight their way down.

Adrian's palace wasn't as large as the queen's, and it seemed older somehow. Hank got a flash of dark rock and harshly cut stone, rather than the smooth sleek golden surface of the queen's tower, with dark ivy crawling along its surface. He saw tiny windows and few terraces, although he did note a massive garden, the rich greenery that seemed to somehow survive and thrive in the city.

"Go," the master guard ordered.

At first it seemed far too easy. There were only two guards standing in front of the entrance to the palace, they seemed more ceremonial than anything else. Two quick blasts of the spear weapons, and the group was through and in. Of course, they didn't expect the swarm of guards on the other side.

Hank moved with Ian, that strange calm that often infected his body when he entered combat taking over. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, the way the enemy guards grappled with their team. Instead of wayward pulses of the spear weapon, as he expected, they used them as hand-to-hand weapons, spear meeting spear as they clashed.

He punched a guard heading his way, kicking the man in the stomach while he fired his own weapon, catching an enemy guard in the shin. Hank didn't watch him go down, too busy turning and defending Ian's back.

"Keep moving for the lift," someone called and they pushed through, leaving a mess behind them for someone else to clean up.

"Having fun, yet?" Hank grinned at Ian as they made it onto the platform, the lift doors closing behind them. They were damn lucky the technology was on their side. The lifts wouldn't open for any of Adrian's men.

Ian gave him a look. "Not yet."

"We'll be moving into close quarters," the master guard warned. "The dungeons are a maze. Commander Morgan and his team should stay in the center.  When we find Sub Jensen, secure the location and then give them room."

The lift halted and the doors opened, but they were ready for the squadron of Adrian's men waiting on the other side. A few spear blasts cleared a path and they funneled out, a row of guards setting up the lines to protect those still exiting the lift. Hank found himself towards the back, still with Ian as they marched for their target.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, just enough warning to knock Ian out of the way of the incoming spear blast. Hank returned fire, shouting "behind us!" to the rest of the guard as more of Adrian's guard spilled into the corridor.

The end of a spear slammed into his jaw and Hank reeled, but didn't fall. He ducked a second blow, grabbing the end of the spear and using the guard's momentum against him, threw the guy against the wall. That was the problem with fighting in close quarters, too many walls. This is why he hated fighting on starships.

Didn't mean he didn't know how to do it.

Now Hank had a spear, he'd dropped his sidearm when he got slugged. He may not know how to fire the damn thing, but he could certainly swing it and take out a few guards at the knees. The last guy went down and he stood there, breathing heavily, waiting for the next attack.

"Come on," Ian said. "We're getting close."

And they were. The last stand of Adrian's guards was just outside a set of large doors, looking like something out of a vid he saw once - heavy stone with metal handles as large as his head. Hank shouldn't have been surprised when the doors merely shimmered open when Morgan touched them, but it still startled him, expecting them to swing outward.

Duke Adrian stood in the center of the room revealed, looking just as startled to see them. Someone took a shot at him, and then they streamed into the room, securing it so Morgan could go to Ackles.

Hank was rooted to the floor. He couldn't move inside, not after he saw Ackles bound, hanging there in agony until Morgan lowered him to the floor. Ackles's pleas for Morgan to help him had Hank turning on heel, facing the rest of the hallway instead of that dark room. His breath came in great gulps, he could smell nothing but iron and blood.

"Henry," Ian's voice brought him back.

Hank swallowed and turned towards him. He hadn't known, all the stars above. All this time, he'd mocked Ackles for spreading his legs for the UP, but he hadn't understood exactly what that had meant.

"Yes, sir?" he responded to Ian, falling back on his training.

Ian frowned at him. "We need to secure this corridor. We're bringing Adrian up to the main level."

Hank nodded. This he could do.

### ***

Ian had seen bad masters before, part of the Guard's job was to be on the look out for abusive doms, make sure that no sub was hurt against their wishes. It wasn't common, most of the time he'd mediated some terrible misunderstandings. Only once did he have to take a dom in for the queen's justice, someone who had gone too far during a scene and nearly killed their own sub.

He never could understand how someone could overlook their Harmony-given responsibilities. Being a master meant caring for and protecting your sub. The gift of submission wasn't something to take lightly. Ian always thought he understood that.

Now he feared he was little better than Duke Adrian, who stood and defied the queen, distaining all subs. "As if they have wills."

Ian glanced over at Hank, who glared at Adrian with fierce eyes. He had never seen Hank so angry before, although he welcomed the anger over the blankness that had been Hank's expression after they discovered Sub Jensen. What exactly had done that to his Hank? His brilliant, irreverent, radiant Hank?

"This is the trial?" Hank leaned closer to whisper as the queen called on the rest of the royal five to begin proceedings against Adrian. "Right now?"

"What better time?" Ian said. "He's been caught in the midst of his wrongdoing." No one could deny the evidence of his subs, all wearing the collar of the unwilling. Ian clenched his hand into a tight fist. The collar of the unwilling was only meant for prisoners and criminals. It should be rare, not as common as every sub in a duke's palace.

How many other subs in Pasdar wore the silver collar? Adrian's corruption would not have stopped with his court.

Ian's gaze flickered once again to Hank, wearing the blue. His stomach churned, remembering Hank appealing to him in the palace. "You have to let me go," Hank had pleaded. It had only spurred Ian to fight harder. He'd wanted Hank as his sub, only Hank, and Ian had risked everything for him.

Hank gasped, and Ian turned his attention back to the trial, away from regarding his sub. So he was a moment late to notice the body Sub Peter laid at his mother's feet. Adrian had killed the sub, using the collar of the unwilling to make sacrifices of his subs. Anger burned in his throat.

"Peter wears the black," Duke Leonard said, pointing out Adrian's only willing sub.

"He tricked me into taking it," Peter choked out. The whole story followed.

Ian's gut twisted again, the anger turning to fear. Had he tricked Henry? He thought he had played both systems - Hank's military term, Harmony's law of ownership - to get something they both wanted. But if Hank had wanted to go. . .was Ian little better than Adrian?

Sub Peter fell to the ground, coughing and choking as the queen cried out "No!"

Hank tackled Adrian to the ground, other guards jumping in to help him. Ian ran to his side, careful not to get in the way as Hank surfaced with the control device in his hand. He tossed it to Ian, a knowing look in his eyes.

Ian had used one of these on Hank once. He turned it off, wondering what it meant that Hank had deferred to him to do that.

He knew he and Hank needed to have words. The sooner, the better.

### ***

Hank rubbed his jaw, pleased when that didn't cause any pain. He didn't even feel any soreness. "Thank you," he told the healer sub who had fixed him. They were lucky to have so few injuries that his bruised jaw was priority enough to be seen to.

The sub - a young man dressed in a long white tunic - merely nodded and sent him on his way. There were other guards behind him, after all.

Hank went back to the suite they'd been assigned in the palace to meet Ian. As soon as they went to see off Morgan and the others, Ian told him they'd be going back to Ian's apartment in the main square of the city. So Hank would have to say goodbye to the palace's luxury.

He snorted, as if Ian's place was any less luxurious. Hank decided he needed to be careful, he couldn't get too used to the comfort of this city. Not if he wanted to go back to starship living afterward.

The door shimmered open before he even touched it. Crap, how long had Ian been waiting? Hank walked in with an apology on his lips.

Ian sat on the bed, shoulders slouched, hands clasped between his knees. He looked pensive, that furrow back in his brow. Hank wanted to run his fingers over those dark eyebrows and smooth it out.

"I'm sorry I took so long," he said, not sure what had Ian so disconcerted.

"Sit down, Henry." Ian patted the bed next to him.

Hank sank down into the soft mattress. "Sure you don't want me to kneel?" He suspected they'd be having a discussion about his behavior - sneaking out, getting himself assigned to the rescue mission.

"We need to be equals for this conversation." Ian grimaced. "As much as we can be, in our circumstances."

"Sounds like you've been thinking some serious thoughts."

Ian shrugged. He was careful not to touch Hank in any way, shifting so they could look each other in the eye. "I didn't trick you, did I Hank?"

Thoughts whirled as Hank tried to figure out what the hell Ian was on about. Trick him? Into what? Hank tugged at his collar, still not used to feeling the tightness around his neck when it occurred to him. "The fuck? You mean like Adrian?"

"Exactly." Ian's jaw was clenched so tightly Hank could see the strain in his face.

The idea of Ian being like the man who'd taken Ackles - trussed him up like an animal and tortured him, the man who'd tricked an unwilling boy into being his slave for five years, the man who killed to keep his power - was so ridiculous Hank barked out a laugh. It had no humor in it, not with Ian's eyes looking so defeated.

"Ian," he said, reaching out to touch his face, stroking his fingers along the stubble on Ian's jaw. "You do know the queen told me I didn't have to sign the contract, right?"

Ian shook his head. "What?"

"I had a choice, Ian. I thought you knew." He would never have wanted Ian to suffer like this, imagining he'd captured Hank against his will. "She gave me more of a choice than my own superior officers." No, those bastards had signed him over to do whatever the queen wanted, without even asking him, just to make sure they got their damn base.

Ian brought his own hand up and caught Hank's, lacing their fingers together. His face looked lighter already, the weight lessened. "That doesn't mean I can forget my place. Every dom is on the precipice. Any of us could fall and be just like Adrian."

"All this dirty talk is getting me hot." Hank rolled his eyes. "I can't think of anyone less like that bastard. You made me a promise, and I trust you to keep it."

Ian nodded, eyes now determined. He squeezed Hank's hand. "And I trust you to keep to the terms of the contract."

Hank wiggled a finger in front of Ian. "I still want a job. I think I did damn good today. Saved your ass."

"I think we can find something for you to do." Ian smiled. "As long as it doesn't involve you speaking to anyone."

Hank laughed. "You know you like it!"

"Maybe I do," Ian answered with a kiss.

 

### III. Moving out

When Ian told Hank he needed to be punished, Hank hadn't expected anything quite like this.

But maybe he should have.

Ian had made the announcement once they'd returned to his apartment, after leaving the palace far behind. The rooms were just as Hank remembered them, cozy and lived-in, so different from the palace with dark terra-cotta floors, warm walling hangings and half-melted candles on nearly every surface.

Hank squared his shoulders, he knew he wouldn't get off that easily, sneaking out on your master was probably number one on reasons to get punished. "Fine, lay it on me," he said. No one ever accused him of not following through.

And now here in the bedroom he hung, suspended by the chain that connected the cuffs surrounding each of his wrists, Hank's toes just touching the floor. A thin rod had spread his legs with more metallic cuffs on the ends, binding his ankles in place.

When he couldn't move, focusing so hard on keeping upright, Ian had teased him open with slick fingers and hot tongue, leaving Hank gasping and hard as he writhed, the chains clinking as he moved. He moaned as Ian slipped something inside of him, another fucked up toy.

Ian stroked a hand along Hank's side. He never could seem to stop touching him, and Hank realized he's grown used to that contact. Without it, he wasn't sure he could bear to be strung up like this. It reminded him too much of how they'd bound him during his first real punishment. But Ian was erasing all those bad memories, filling his head with new erotic experiences.

"All right?" Ian whispered, moving to face Hank.

Hank swallowed and nodded. "Not sure how this is punishment."

The downright evil grin that crossed Ian's face sent his belly plummeting. "I'm not quite finished yet."

"Fuck." Hank wondered when he'd learn to keep his mouth shut.

"You're not allow to come, and just to be sure. . ." Ian reached out and clamped something around the base of Hank's dick and balls.

He squirmed at the sensation, remembering the last time Ian had snapped a ring on him. Hank had never come so hard in his life. "Gotcha," he gasped out.

"I don't think you do." Ian moved to sit on his bed. He spread his legs and undid the lacings on his pants, letting his own cock go free. With slow movements of his hand he stroked himself to rock hardness, sliding the droplet of pre-come up and down his shaft.

Well if Ian would rather Hank just watched while he masturbated instead of having Hank suck his dick, he figured he was ok with that. Hank licked his lips, missing the taste of Ian in his mouth. The room was already starting to smell of him, thick musk and that bit of spice Hank had only ever encountered on Harmony. Maybe it was something in the food.

Ian gave him a look, his eyes heavy with arousal. He reached out with his free hand and touched something on the bed, a round object that glittered like obsidian.

Hank shouted in surprise at the sudden vibrations in his ass. Fuck it, if Ian wasn't going to play dirty.

"Is it so easy now?" Ian continued to caress his own cock, with long teasing strokes.

Hank pulled at his bonds, he wanted to be free so badly. His cock felt heavy and thick, not painful yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. The chains clanked and he nearly lost his balance, his toes skidding on the floor, now slippery when it was normally carpet soft enough for him to kneel on. His struggles didn't do a damn thing, only intensified the feeling of the vibrations inside him, unable to focus on anything else.

Maybe he finally understood the whole punishment thing.

Before he could respond to Ian's words, a sharp beeping shook them both out of the mood. Ian looked around the room, a perplexed look on his face.

"It's my comm," Hank gasped, still squirming from the vibrating plug.  "It's in my pack."

Ian nodded and pulled the black bag from where Hank had stashed it near the bed. He pulled out the slim comm and asked, "How does it work?"

"You know you could just untie me," Hank said, waggling his eyebrows.

Ian stepped closer, holding the comm up in one hand. "I'd like to learn."

"All right. First make sure you hit that red button for audio only. This isn't something I want the Captain to see." Hank rolled his eyes. "Then hit the light blue button to answer."

Ian did exactly what Hank said, touching the buttons with almost exaggerated movements.

"Tappen here," Hank said as the beeping stopped and the comm connected. He swallowed, trying to hold on to his composure. Ian hadn't done a damn thing to make this easier on him, the plug still pounded in his ass and his cock twitched almost helplessly against his leg.

"Major, this is Commander Harris. The captain asked me to contact you about your personal belongings."

Hank cleared his throat before responding. "The stuff in my quarters?" He didn't have a whole lot there anyway. Most soldiers learned to travel light. Anything that meant a lot he kept in storage on Earth. You never knew when you'd have to evacuate a ship and leave everything to detonation.

"Yes, Major. If you like, you can retrieve the items before we leave orbit. There is a shuttle due to make a trip back currently at base camp."

Hank looked over at Ian, who was staring at the comm. with a puzzled look on his face. He guessed Ian never needed a separate device to contact someone, they entire city was hooked up to the tele system. "Can I?" he mouthed.

Ian met his gaze, his brow furrowing. He nodded once, and then pointed to himself.

Fuck, of course he wanted to come. Not that Hank objected, really, he wouldn't mind showing Ian life off of this rock, but it was going to make things fucking awkward right now. "Yes, sir. I'll be bringing company with me. Is there room on the shuttle for one more?"

A moment of silence, Hank assumed Harris was checking. He shifted his stance and winced at the clinking of the chains. Stars, he hoped Harris hadn't heard that.

"Looks like there will be plenty of room, Major. Can I tell them you'll be there within the hour?"

"Should be fine." It would take them a half hour to walk to the base camp. Ian would have to untie him sooner rather than later.

"Roger that. Harris out."

"Blue button again," Hank said.

Ian clicked it and put the comm down on the bed. "Well that was fortunate for you." He touched the other remote and thankfully the vibrations stopped.

"I'm a lucky guy." Hank grinned as Ian came closer and unhooked the chain holding his arms over his head. He held his wrists out, gulping as Ian smoothing his fingers down his arms, setting his skin tingling before undoing the cuffs.

"You're still not going to get to come." Ian leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Ring stays on."

Hank groaned against Ian's lips. "How long does punishment last, anyway?"

"As long as I say it does." Ian bent and released Hank's ankles. "Don't move just yet."

He obeyed, keeping still as Ian eased the plug out of his body, sagging a little in relief at the removal of it. "So I should suck up to you real well, huh?"

Ian laughed, circling an arm around Hank's waist as he nuzzled against the back of his neck. "Among other things, sucking would be nice, yes. Sadly, we don't have time for that." He pulled away and gave Hank a gentle smack on one buttock. "I'll summon a tram while you get dressed."

"Um." Hank turned and gave Ian a considering look. Ian's clothing was downright sedate by Harmony terms - long royal blue tunic, dark flowing pants, leather sandals - but he'd stand out on the Mercury. "You might want to change too. I don't have an extra jumpsuit for you, damn it. Do you have anything in black?"

### ***

Ian thought if Hank would react like this every time he wore knee-length leather boots, he might just have to wear them more often. He didn't miss the way Hank's eyes kept falling to Ian's feet, how he licked his lips, his cheeks rosy. Of course the ring keeping Hank's cock filled didn't hurt either.

He imagined it must be making wearing that jumpsuit difficult, the way Hank's dick pressed up against the fabric as they walked through the forest surrounding Harmony. Ian thought it a shame to cover up Hank's beauty, but the brush in the woods would make walking in a kilt difficult. Hank walked with a bit of a swagger to his step, and Ian grinned, knowing the ring kept him from walking normally.

Ian would be the first from Harmony to ever leave the planet. He'd sent a message quickly to the queen before they left, promising to report back as soon as they returned. The excitement curled in his belly and he fought to keep from showing it. Although he did walk with a bit of a spring in his step, something Hank probably attributed to leaving his sub in such a state before boarding.

"Once we get there," Hank began. "Let me do all the talking okay?"

"Of course, Henry. This is your world. I'll trust you to guide me."

The blush on Hank's cheeks darkened and Ian wondered what exactly he'd said to cause that. "Thanks."

They came upon the camp suddenly and Ian halted in surprise. He hadn't expected the sheer number of people teeming through the clearing, between hastily set up tents and buildings. There were countless crates and boxes, and large machines that continued to knock down trees in the distance.

Hank approached a young woman directing others and Ian followed, belatedly recognizing her from the team that came to help rescue Sub Jensen.

"Corporal Gyllenhaal."

She stood and flashed a grin at him. Ian quelled the sudden jealousy that reared up at that. Hank belonged to him, and wore the collar to prove it, clearly visible over the neckline of his jumpsuit. "Actually it's Sergeant now."

Hank laughed.  "Somebody's got some sense then."

"What can I help you with, Major?" She frowned over in Ian's direction.

"Oh, we're due on the next shuttle to the Mercury. I need to pick up some things before the Mercury leaves orbit."

Gyllenhaal nodded. "They're holding the shuttle for you, sir. I can let Commander Brown know you're here."

Hank shook his head. "I'll find him. How's the progress going on the base?"

Ian figured Hank must be starved for information from his fellows. He felt a pang of heartache, but there was little he could do to fix that. Hank belonged to Ian and his status depended on Ian's, which was rather low as things went in Harmony. He couldn't expect to be privy to the information going between the base and the queen.

"Usual mess." She shrugged. "They didn't wait to draw up plans first, just started clearing land. Now they've decided they can't just use standard base blueprints. I think we'll be living in tents for a while."

"Where'd the labor come from?"

"Desert Moon delivered them and the construction equipment. We've got everything we need."

"Except organization."

She laughed. "I'll just keep doing my job, Major. When they're ready for them, my scanners will be too."

"Keep it up, Sergeant. Don't be a stranger." Hank nodded at her and led Ian further into the encampment.

"Will you not introduce me at all?" Ian said softly.

Hank turned and gave him a startled look. "Thought you knew Gyllenhaal."

"Not personally."

"Well, we'll have to invite her over for dinner sometime."

While Ian was laughing at that, Hank waved at another man.

"Major Tappen, bout time you got here."

"Sorry, sir, to be fair we didn't receive much advance notice."

"We?"

Ian gave a polite bow. Clearly this man held some authority. In Harmony it would be obvious he was a dom by his dark eyes, but not only that. He held himself with all the clout of someone with power. What he could not figure out what how they determined such status here. Ian blew out a frustrated breath. How could he be sure how to act, whether to offer deference or to demand respect himself? He would have to ask Hank as soon as possible; Hank's world couldn't be that chaotic.

"I am Guard Ian of Harmony."

"Commander Sterling Brown. Of the Mercury." Brown gave them both a small smile. "The Captain's gonna love meeting you. Grab seats, I'll comm the ship."

"Yes, sir." Hank did something strange with his hand and Ian made another mental note to ask him about it later.

The shuttle, which from the outside resembled one of Harmony's trams, looked completely different from the inside. The seats were smaller, cramped, most of them taken by more individuals in black uniforms - did no one wear any color in the stars? Machinery interrupted the smooth flow of the solid walls, no windows to enjoy the view. And the musty smell had him wrinkling his nose before they even stepped inside. Ian didn't see any place appropriate for a sub to kneel, so he remained silent when Hank climbed into the seat next to him.

"Be sure to strap in," Hank said, pulling an odd looking piece of fabric over his lap.

Ian looked down at his own seat, not quite sure how this worked. In Harmony he'd merely touch where he wanted the strap to go, and it would be done. Hank gave him a wry smile and pulled Ian's strap over for him, buckling it into the opposite side of the seat. Ian hoped he wasn't too obviously foreign. He noticed the looks they were getting from the others, though no one had said anything yet.

"All clear. Takeoff in twenty," a strange muffled voice seemed to come from the air. Ian looked around, not seeing a screen to indicate the speaker.

Things were so strange here.

And then the shuttle took off and he nearly fell out of his seat. Hank had meant it when he'd told him to strap in. Instead of the smooth motion of a tram, the shuttle rocked and shifted, sending its passengers to and fro depending on the direction of the movement. And these people had achieved space travel? He couldn't imagine what it would be like once they actually reached the stars!

### ***

They were the last two off of the shuttle, Ian assumed so Hank didn't have to answer any awkward questions about why it was so difficult for Ian to undo his safety strap. "No wonder you're so fascinated by our technology," Ian murmured, "It's a wonder you get anything done."

Hank coughed, covering his mouth with his hand. "I'm sure that's it."

They stepped off the shuttle and Ian nearly tripped. His feet felt heavier, like he was weighted down. It took him a moment to adjust, the musty smell still in his nose and his clogged ears. Already he missed breathing clean Harmony air.

A woman was waiting for them when they climbed out, standing in a dark blue uniform, her arms crossed over her chest. Once again Ian sensed that same presence about her, clearly another person of status.

"Welcome aboard, Major Tappen. Guard Ian, I presume?"

He inclined his head. "Yes, mistress."

She grinned at him. "Mistress, huh? I could get used to that. You can just call me 'captain.'"

"Thank you, Captain." He scanned the shuttle bay, noting the lack of color, the smooth solid lines of the silver gray walls and the too bright light. "Your ship is very impressive." Though a bit boring. He hoped he grew accustomed to the sour air soon, he was afraid to breathe very deeply.

"It's the largest in the fleet. I'm sure Major Tappen will show you around before you need to return." She turned her gaze back to Hank. "Major, do you have a report for me?"  
"I do, Captain." Hank reached into his pack and pulled out a slate. "I had to write it on Harmony tech. It'll give your guys some fun trying to pull it into the ship's computer."

She took the slate carefully, staring at the blank screen for a moment, one eyebrow raised.

"May I?" Ian took the slim device from her and stroked his fingers across the screen. It lit up with text. "Harmony works with our thoughts. Just picture what you need when you touch it."

"I see." She took back the slate. "Major, stop by my ready room before you leave. Enjoy your stay aboard, Guard."

Ian bowed and Hank made another of those strange hand motions. "Why do you?" he imitated the movement, hand coming from his forehead.

"Oh, it's a salute - a gesture of respect from a soldier of lower rank." Hank started to walk and Ian followed. The others in the room appeared to be busy loading cargo, but he could hear the barely hushed whispers, see how some stared at him before quickly looking away. Did they expect him to be more alien?

"The ship is split into different levels and sections, not too different from Harmony," Hank said. "Our lifts don't operate on thought. You actually have to tell them where you want to go."

"I can see why you're interested in our technology."

Hank made a face at him, but at least he knew Ian was only teasing. "I'll take you to the observation deck. Since we're out here it would be nice if you could actually see the stars."

The observation deck seemed a popular destination. When the lift doors closed behind them, Ian found a crowd before the tall windows that went from floor to ceiling, all dressed in variations of the uniform he'd seen before. And then he stopped noticing the people, too caught up in the breathtaking sight beyond the glass.

Space stretched on, a blanket of night that went on forever. A giant sphere hovered in its midst, blue and green swirls among the tiny pinpricks of white lights.

"Is that?" Ian asked.

"Planet 328," Hank said with a grin, following him to the edge of the platform, where Ian could touch the clear glass between them and nothingness. Or was it glass? The material felt odd beneath his fingers. "And Harmony is just a tiny dot on the surface."

It made him feel very small.

"Amazing, huh?" Hank said, his voice a whisper in Ian's ear.

"Yes," he said. It was all he could say, still mesmerized by the sight. How many of these spheres - planets - had Hank been to? How many worlds were out there, waiting in the vast ocean of the stars?

"Hank!"

They both whirled at voice calling for Hank. Ian saw a group of soldiers, a mix of blue and green uniforms. Some color at least, he thought, despite the simple lines. He only recognized one of them from Harmony, another of the ones who came to rescue Sub Jensen.

That soldier went up to Hank and punched him on the arm. "Son of a bitch, what are you doing here? When Lisa said she saw you in the shuttle bay I thought she was hitting the fumes too hard."

Hank laughed and punched the other man back. "Just here to pick up my shit. Uh, you remember Ian, right?" He put a hand on Ian's back and brought him forward into the crowd. "Ian, you remember Lieutenant Whitfield? These are some of my friends from the Reclamation project. Casey, Lisa, Ray. . ."

Suddenly all eyes were on Ian, a sea of faces all glaring at him. "Pleasure to meet you," he choked out. Did Hank's friends blame him for taking Hank away? If he had to guess from the stormy looks his way, Ian would say yes.

Luckily Hank seemed to pick up on the tension. "We need to get going, I still haven't been to my quarters yet."

"Hey man, I thought we might be able to grab dinner? Or a drink at the bar? You know, before you gotta go back to that crap." Whitfield glowered in Ian's direction.

Hank shook his head. "Sorry. I have to meet with the captain for a debriefing. . ."

He continued to babble such incomprehensible things, all the while prodding Ian towards the lift. With a final wave the doors closed shut on Hank's friends.

"They blame me," Ian said softly.

"Fuck." Hank let his head thunk against the wall of the lift. "They don't even know you."

"I did spirit you away," Ian said, trying to make light of it around the lump in his throat. Not for the first time he reconsidered his actions. He knew he could not have let Hank go, which was why he made that desperate plea during the Choosing. In his wildest dreams he'd never expected his petition to be actually granted. Hank was something special, a sub like no other. Every day Ian counted himself lucky that Hank had signed the contract instead of coming back here, to his home.

   
Hank turned and curled his hand around Ian's neck, tilting him forward until their foreheads were touching. "You never take me anyplace I don't wanna go."

### ***

Hank wondered what Ian thought of his tiny quarters. It was easier to dwell on the comparison between this room and the opulent suites in Harmony than to think about the scene in the elevator. He wished he hadn't come back here. His two worlds came crashing together and Hank wanted them safely separated. He couldn't be 'Major Tappen' when they went back and he still wasn't sure who Sub Henry was.

Ian went to plop on the double bed in the center of the room, wincing as he bounced. Hank cringed in sympathy, he remembered those mattresses being barely better than cardboard. Nothing like the sinfully soft beds in Harmony.

He moved to his closet and regarded his wardrobe, wondering if he should bring his uniforms or send them to storage. Hank wasn't sure if he'd have to wear them when interacting with the base, although he'd rather have his neatly pressed Corps uniform over the leather kilts most subs wore.

"Henry," Ian said, breaking him out of his fashion musings. "Come here."

Hank had learned to respond to that tone of voice. He left the closet and moved to stand in front of Ian, who sat on the end of the bed, his legs spread, those incredibly hot leather boots braced against the rough carpeting. His cock twitched, still locked in its ring, Hank had been trying not to think about it, trying to focus on getting through this. But Ian's deep voice just brought all the blood rushing south again.

Ian ran the back of his hand over the bulge in Hank's crotch, causing shocks of sensation to jolt through him. "Free yourself."

Now? Ian wanted him to submit now? Hank groaned, the idea of doing this in his ship's quarters so incredibly kinky, like they were bringing a bit of Harmony to the Mercury. He wasn't going to protest though, not when Ian might let him come.

Hank unzipped the jumpsuit, shrugging out of it and pushing it past his thighs. His cock sprang free and he moaned as the cool air touched his heated skin.

"I think the time for punishment has passed." Ian circled his fingers around the base of Hank's cock, covering the metal ring. "You've been so very good." And then he leaned forward and swallowed Hank down with one motion.

Hank yelped, the pleasure too much, nearly painful after being held on the edge for so long. Ian took pity on him, pulled off long enough to say 'come when you can' before sucking Hank down, lips pressed against his belly. The ring came off then - and Hank sent up a small prayer that Harmony tech did work outside of Harmony, he did not want to have to explain the ring in the infirmary.

And then he couldn't think at all as he finally blew his load, his orgasm starting deep in his balls. Hank came and came, Ian sucking hard and swallowing him down, leaving him empty.

He trembled when Ian pulled away, unsure if he could stay on his feet. Luckily he didn't have to.

Ian licked his lips, catching an errant strand of Hank's come. "Kneel." He leaned back, sliding one hand between his own legs to undo the lacings on his pants and free his cock, hard and red.

Hank fell to his knees gratefully, eager to taste Ian, to get that hard dick deep in his mouth.

"Your mouth only," Ian ordered. "Put your hands on my boots."

Oh Ian was going to kill him. Hank should have known the perceptive dom wouldn't have missed his interest in those shiny boots, the way they clung to Ian's legs. He curled his fingers around Ian's calves, loving how the smoothness of the leather echoed the smoothness of Ian's cock in his mouth. With his tongue, Hank teased the slit, tasting Ian. So strange, he thought, to smell the sterile air of the ship, but have Harmony in his nose and mouth, that strange spice that meant Ian to him.

"Faster," Ian hissed, his hand caught in Hank's hair, guiding, but never pressuring. His hips canted upwards, almost of their own doing and Hank rolled with it.

He gripped the boots tighter, glad to have something to do with his hands as he slurped around Ian's cock. All sense of rhythm left him as he continued to bob his head. Ian let out a grunt and he knew the other man was close. Hank swallowed harder, locking his lips around the head of Ian's cock. Finally sweet come filled his mouth as Ian climaxed with a low moan.

Hank gasped as he pulled off, letting his head fall to rest on Ian's thigh, closing his eyes as Ian continued to stroke his hair. "Mmm, wish we had that huge shower now."

"I take it the showers on your ship are a bit lacking?"

"We're just lucky I have my own. In the barracks the showers were down the hall and you had to share." Hank pushed himself up, sprawling next to Ian on the bed. "We won't fit together."

He must have been pouting, because Ian thumbed his lips with a smile. "I promise you a long shower once we get home." After he spoke Ian's face suddenly fell and his lips thinned.

Hank wondered why. "Yeah. Let me just pack my things. Take 'em home."

Finally Ian smiled.

### ***

The captain had made Ian wait outside while she spoke to Hank and that had annoyed him. Ian paced the hallway, knowing the anger showed on his face from the way every passerby flinched as they walked past him. That probably didn't do much for his reputation on the ship; he could only guess what stories they were telling about the man who had spirited Major Tappen away.

He wanted to crawl out of his skin; his entire body itched to be out of this oppressive place. Ian had never been so closed off from the sun, always able to see it through the windows of a room or tunnel. His legs ached, every step hurt although he had finally gotten used to the strange air, enough to breathe at the very least.

There had to be more to Hank's world. Ian couldn't imagine Hank caged on this cold, ship. But perhaps, with his friends it was easier to bear. Not that those friends would see Ian as anything but a captor. He still didn't understand how they determined status, why some deferred to Hank and others didn't. It frustrated him not to understand his own place here.

Of course, perhaps that was because Ian didn't have a place here.  
   
When Hank finally did come out, his expression was closed off. Ian couldn't figure out what he was feeling and that disconcerted him. He'd prided himself on reading Hank's moods and emotions, picking out his desires before Hank even knew them himself.

Ian didn't ask until they were safely returned to Harmony, on the tram back to Ian's apartment. Hank knelt at his feet, as was proper, even though he'd balked at that during their very first tram ride. The large gray box with Hank's possessions sat next to Ian on the bench, a gesture meant to show Hank how much Ian valued his things. He wasn't sure if Hank understood that.

"What did your captain say to you?" he asked after the tram paused to let off the only other people on board. Ian's apartment would be the next stop.

Hank looked up. He had been silent during the trip home and Ian just knew something was wrong. "They wanted me to report secretly to them about what I learned here. Especially about the tech."

Ian blinked, his breath hitched before he responded. "Yet you're telling me."

"Maybe I like you a bit more right now," Hank grumbled.

"Henry. . ."

"It doesn't matter. I told her I wouldn't do it. They've got two soldiers assigned here for that."

Ian knew Hank had to break with his old life if he could ever be happy in Harmony. He never expected Hank to realize that himself. The tram came to a halt and the doors slid open. "Come," he said, leading the way.

He breathed in deeply as they stepped onto his terrace, appreciating the clean scent of Harmony's air. The air on the ship seemed dull and lifeless, and he couldn't imagine not have the respite of the outdoors, being trapped in that construct in the coldness of space. No, Ian would choose Harmony over the lovely view of his planet any day.

"Where should I put this?" Hank asked, hefting his box.

"Your room perhaps?" Ian said absently, focused still on the blue sky turning golden in the horizon as the day ended.

"My room?" Hank sounded startled.

Of course, he'd never gotten the opportunity to show Hank. They'd been interrupted before anything important had been accomplished. His lips curved, including Hank's punishment. "Come. It's right off the main bedroom."

The door was hidden, since this was a sub's private space. Ian touched the sconce on the wall, and it shimmered opened to reveal a small room. A single bed was tucked into the corner with a heavy wooden trunk at its foot. Perhaps Hank would like a desk to display the images he'd taken from the Mercury. Ian turned to ask.

"I half-expected to find a cage in here," Hank said, setting his box down on the bed.

"Not unless you feel more comfortable in a cage." Ian had known subs like that. "We'll do our playing elsewhere. This is where you come when you need a moment away from me."

Hank shook his head, running his hand through his hair, messing it up from the careful coif he'd arranged before heading out to the ship. Ian liked it much better this way. "You know, I'm not sure I'll ever figure this place out."

"We have plenty of time." Ian smiled. "But right now, you're wearing far too many clothes." He tugged at Hank's jumpsuit.

"Yes, sir."

### IV. The piercing

Hank opened his eyes, the swatch of sunlight confusing him for a moment before he remembered where he was. He looked over and found Ian still asleep, letting out tiny wisps of air that puffed out his lips. Okay, that was adorable.

He placed his hand over the arm Ian had slung around his waist during the night. Over the past few days he'd gotten to be a pro at this, carefully easing out from Ian's embrace to begin his daily routine - shower and prep, then setting up breakfast on the terrace before waking Ian. The rest of the day was spent in training, Ian quickly covering those things that took his people years to teach their subs. Hank had lots of catching up to do.

He grinned, his face heating at the thought of more training. Really, he couldn't complain, he hadn't gotten laid so much since the academy. Eventually he knew Ian would need to go back to his duties - he'd explained most doms took leave when training a new sub - and Hank still wasn't sure where that would leave him.

Almost anything would be better than what the UP wanted of him. He'd been so angry at Captain Devine when she'd made her request. "I'm not a god damned scut. The UP doesn't tell me who to fuck."

They wanted to sell him and then use him. Never mind the two scuts assigned to work with the queen, no, the UP wanted to use Henry too. He'd pointed out - after he calmed down - that the agreement with the queen specified that his duties would be assigned by Ian alone. The UP sure as hell didn't have a claim on him anymore. They got their damned base and they could leave him the fuck alone.

He must have tensed, getting all worked up just thinking about it again, because Hank felt Ian's hand stroking gently against his belly, pulling him out of his thoughts. Rolling over, Hank apologized. "Didn't mean to wake you. I was just about to get up."

"I'm glad you did. Today we're going to do things a little differently." Ian grinned. He still looked half-asleep, his eyelids heavy.

Hank gave in to the impulse to lean over and kiss Ian's forehead, feeling those long eyelashes flutter against his face. "What exciting plans do you have for today?"

"Get the breakfast tray and bring it here. We'll have our shower together."

"Mmm, breakfast in bed, I think I like this already." Hank slid out from under the covers. When he went to pull on his discarded sleep pants, Ian cleared his throat. Ah, naked time again. Ian had a thing for making Hank do chores in the nude.

He pulled back the curtains from the large window to let more light into the bedroom before heading to the kitchenette. Ian's rooms were all in various shades of earth tones, deep browns and terra cotta oranges. Although Ian insisted on dressing Hank up in bright blues and greens. He never felt so much like a dress up doll.

Breakfast didn't take long to fix. Hank didn't have to do anything really, just lift the cover on the Dumb Waiter and find a tray for two. Today he found a platter of finger foods, tiny pastries and rolls with two mugs filled with warm tye. Ian programmed the thing, though he promised to teach Hank how, eventually.  He was looking forward to seeing if he could get it to make some chicken fried steak.

Ian had sat up in the bed, the covers arranged around his waist. "Kneel." He pointed to the side of the bed.

Hank set the tray down over Ian's lap before obeying. "Going to be hard for me to eat from here."

"Hmm, not really." Ian lifted one of the pastries and held it to Hank's mouth.

Oh, they were going to play that way. Hank opened his lips and took the sweet bit, sucking the jelly off of Ian's fingers. He could figure out his own role quickly enough.

"Don't get too worked up," Ian warned, taking a bite for himself. "Savor the moment."

"Is this another lesson?" Hank groaned. Ian stuffed another bit of flakey bread crust in his open mouth. He chewed through his grin.

"Everything is a lesson." Ian sipped his drink before handing the same cup to Hank. He waited until Hank took his fill before continuing. "We're going to the piercing master today."

"Oh," Hank said. He swallowed, not exactly looking forward to this. Though the idea of nipple rings was fascinating he wasn't sure he'd like having actual metal inside his nipples.

Ian touched his chin and forced Hank's face upward to look him in the eye. "Nothing you can't bear, I promise."  
Fuck. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

### ***

Trust Ian to have him so worked up by the time they left the house that Hank hadn't had time to worry about the piercing. Ian set out clothing for him - tight black pants with dark leather boots to match Ian's. And that was after a shower together that had Ian carefully prepping Hank with warm vanilla scented oil. His insides throbbed as he pulled on the pants, which, like much of Harmony's tech, molded to fit his body like a second skin.

And then Ian came out of the bedroom in his own outfit - black leather pants, with a black sleeveless top to match that showed off the well-defined muscles in his arms. Hank couldn't help himself, he had to kneel and touch the supple soft leather of Ian's boots, inhaling the scent. He half wanted to lick them, but Ian pulled him up with a laugh. "Later," he promised.

"What the hell are you doing to me?" he wanted to ask, but kept the words in.

Hank wanted to bust them out now, as they stood waiting to meet the piercing master in a room filled with large couches and hooks along the walls. Sunlight filtered in from the large windows in the front, Harmony's main street just on the other side with doms and subs walking by. He fidgeted behind Ian, unable to keep still when he knew what was about to happen to him.

"Guard Ian, welcome. You and your sub may enter," a sub gestured them through the archway, down a hallway and into another room. Like most female subs, she wore a simple tunic that hung off of one shoulder and gathered around her waist. Her lip, nose and eyebrows all glittered with jeweled piercings, while a series of golden hoops ran along each of her ears. Hank found himself wondering where else might she be pierced.

Inside the smaller room the piercing master - a tall heavily built man with a brilliant smile - stood, pulling on a pair of surgical gloves of all things. He didn't have any piercings himself, well, none that Hank could see. "Ah, good day. Nipple piercing only today?"

Hank froze, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Would Ian want anything else done?

"Yes, that will do nicely. And I scheduled the room for immediately afterwards?"

"Of course."

The room wasn't anything special - clean, almost medical with nothing more than a metallic chair in the center. A mirror took up one wall, and the series of implements that the piercing master needed were on a cart that hovered wherever the man turned. Hank couldn't think of what Ian wanted to do in here at all.

Ian put a hand on Hank's bare shoulder. "Strip for us, Henry?"

"Why?" he choked out.

Ian brushed his fingertips along Hank's skin. "To remind you of your place. And so I can fuck you afterwards."

Hank shivered, the anxiety in his gut mixing with anticipation. He didn't quite know how to deal with that. Ian certainly knew how to distract him. "All right."

He stepped out of his boots and undid the pants, which slid off his legs easily. Hank could feel the flush rising in his skin at the eyes of the piercing master and his assistant on him. His cock hung half-hard between his legs and he had to fight to keep his hands from covering it.

"You do your master credit," the guy said to him. "Stand still please, I need to mark the location."

Ian stepped forward. "One moment." He took Hank by the shoulders and leaned down, taking first one nipple between his lips and then the other, sucking hard until they were both hard and wet. With one last kiss for Hank's lips, he pulled away.

Now that got his dick to stand at attention.

He hardly noticed the other man placing marks on his nipples, Hank struggled to keep his breathing even, keeping his gaze locked on Ian's. Ian's dark eyes were smoldering, as if he couldn't went to bend Hank over and give it to him good.

Hank found he was looking forward to that.

"Sit please."

The chair was surprisingly comfortable. Hank rested his arms on the provided location, his feet fitting into the slats at the end of the chair. He supposed if needed there could be restraints here, but he doubted Ian would use them. By now he must know that if Hank said he'd do something, then he would. That included getting his nipples pierced.

"What level of anesthetic would you like?" The assistant had picked up a bottle of something from the little cart.

"I don't want him to be in any pain, but I want him to feel it," Ian said.

"Give me a 50% solution, then, Artese."

The sub, Artese, nodded and did whatever she needed to do, before brushing the substance across Hank's nipples. He gasped at the coldness at first, then the feeling faded into a pleasant numbness. An almost minty smell reached his nose.

"Henry, keep your eyes on me." Ian came to stand at his head as the master reclined the chair.

Hank turned his face toward Ian, just as happy to not watch as his nipples were clamped. He gasped as he felt the first needle go in, but there wasn't any pain, not even a sharp bite. So odd to feel something inside his flesh.

He swallowed and tried to concentrate on remaining still.

"There," the piercing master said. "We just need to heal the piercings and you can play with them all you like."

Hank bit his lip to stop from groaning. He concentrated on the feel of the little device they used on his chest. There, that was some tech he could share with the UP - nipple-piercing healer. He wanted to laugh, Hank felt slightly light-headed at the same time.

Ian finally looked over at the piercing master's handwork. "Perfect. Thank you, Dom Marcel."

Hank turned his gaze, regarding the metal spearing his nipples. He reached out and flicked one, shuddering at the sensation that went straight to his cock. Oh this was going to be bad.

"Stop that." Ian slapped his hand away gently. "Mine."

Dom Marcel chuckled. "We'll leave you the room. Just let Artese know when you are done."

Hank didn't notice them leaving, too focused on Ian who came to stand between his legs. "You don't know how delicious you look," Ian murmured, his voice gone husky.

"You look ready enough to eat me," Hank said.

Ian chuckled. He fingered both nipples, twisting and pulling on the metal bars, sending Hank writhing against the chair, unable to help himself. His nipples felt hot and sore, and yet no matter what Ian did, the shocks of pleasure shot through him, making him so hard his cock was dripping against his thigh.

"Don't move you hands," Ian ordered. He did something to the chair and the part where Hank had put his legs came apart and lifted up, spreading Hank open on the chair like a dinner feast.

So that's why Ian wanted the room.

Ian kept pushing, until Hank's thighs were lifted up and back, revealing his still slick hole. He slipped a finger inside and Hank bore down on it, wanting something to fill him up. The finger hardly counted, just reminded him of how empty he was. After days of being filled up in various ways - with tongue and cock and more toys than he could count - Hank craved it, wanted something inside him.

He felt so sore; his entire body ached from his nipples down to his pulsing cock. It needed to be touched so badly.

Ian pulled his fingers out. He tweaked Hank's nipples once more. "Not so bad, then?"

"Fucking fuck me," Hank moaned. His ass pressed into the chair and he tried to tilt upwards, to offer himself. But Ian had adjusted the chair in such a way that he could only groan in frustration.

When Ian smiled it had something dark and lustful about it. He reached down and freed himself, just pulling out his prick - hard and red and leaking. The sight of that with Ian still dressed, the black leather framing his cock like a masterpiece, had Hank nearly begging for it.

He never thought he'd find leather so sexy, but it only enhanced Ian, made Hank want to bury his nose in the fabric, as long as it was heated with the warmth from Ian's body. "Please," he said, finally giving in and asking for it.

"So impatient," Ian said, but his voice was strained. He couldn't hold off himself, it seemed, because as he spoke, he slotted his cock against Hank's ass and pushed.

Finally, finally he was full.

Hank clenched his eyes shut, fingers digging into the fabric of the chair. Ian covered him with his body, the scent of their musk mixing with the leather, overcoming the sterile medical scent of the room. He breathed in deep, letting himself be overwhelmed with it.

"I want you to come on my cock," Ian all but growled into his ear, his hips rolling into Hank's, their bodies so tightly together Hank thought he'd never be free.

He moaned at Ian's words, straining upward for something, anything to touch his cock. It caught against the leather of Ian's shirt and he shivered and shuddered.  He startled babbling, no idea what he was saying, a mixture of 'please' and 'you gotta' anything to make himself come.

And then Ian moved just right, hitting that place inside him and Hank let go, his balls hitching as he came.

"Good. . .boy," Ian gasped. He reached down with one hand to twist Hank's nipple and then cried out his own orgasm, coming deep inside Hank. "So good."

Yeah, Hank thought. It really was.

### ***

Ian decided he would never tire of putting Hank on display.

Hank walked slightly behind him, his chest bare but for his new piercings and the length of chain Ian purchased and then clipped on each rod of metal. Every so often he would pause in the midst of Harmony's streets, turn and tug on the chain, enjoying how Hank would close his eyes and fight not to react. But Hank couldn't hide the flush that colored his body, the pink that tinged his cheeks. Ian loved how his responses were so uninhibited, yet almost innocent.

Pride swelled within him at how well Hank had adapted to his ownership. He obeyed readily, but he was still Hank, still the uncouth, mouthy sub from the stars. Ian would not have it any other way, and loved how his collar and his chain marked Hank as his property.

"Where are we going?" Hank asked.

"To show you off a bit." Ian grinned at him. He hoped Hank understood it was a reward of sorts, demonstrating to all and sundry Ian's pride in his sub. "We're meeting some friends at a tavern. The Lonely Cock."

Hank choked back a laugh. "Let me guess - the name is supposed to be ironic?"

"Just a touch." Ian smiled back. "It's not far. Keep walking."

"Yes, sir," Hank answered.

His words sent a little chill down Ian's spine. He'd never had a sub for this long, never imagined how it would be, to always have Hank with him, at least for the next two years. That reminded him, as they made their way across the town square, through the crowds of masters and subs, that he needed to tell his family about Hank. Harmony knew, they'd seen the collaring on the tele, but Ian was being rather remiss in not introducing Hank to his mother and bringing him around to see father again.

He wanted Hank to himself just a little while longer.

They took a lift from street level to the midpoint of the tall building, shining silver in Harmony's light. Ian took a moment to pause as they walked across one of the bridges that spanned the city, he could see the palace rising in the distance, the ocean a rippling blue backdrop. He appreciated Harmony so much more since his visit to the stars. Their cold beauty could never compare to her warmth.

The Lonely Cock appeared as they walked down the crest of the bridge: a stone archway with colorful flowers intertwined through golden latticework marked the entrance, a screen rippling above it with the name of the establishment, shifting to note the special of the day.  Ah, an intricate rope show later on this afternoon.

"Oh stars," he heard Hank whisper as they entered.

### ***

Hank felt overdressed as they passed the archway to be greeted by a sub in a very short kilt and nothing else, not even a pair of sandals. He caught glimpses of half-naked subs no matter where he looked: the pillar right in front held a woman dressed in nothing but a crisscross of crimson ropes, the stage at the front had a group of kilt-dressed subs setting up for something, along one wall stood a series of cages, although only one was in use, though most disconcerting was the sub bent over one of the tables, her legs and arms bound while a line of doms waited behind her for their turn.

In some ways it reminded him of some of the space dock bars he'd been to. Meridian had its share of scantily clad people on sale for the night. But the vibe was different, it lacked the smell of alcohol and hopelessness, the desperation that often tinged life on the border. The light here filtered in through the large windows and glass skylights, the air fragrant like the flowers they had walked through to get inside. Hank didn't quite know what to think.

He didn't realize he had stiffened until Ian took his arm and whispered, "Look at their collars."

They were wearing red, he realized, surprised he hadn't noticed before. Any sub tied down or chained to a pole had a red collar, like that Sub Misha before he switched. "So the red collars are the sluts?" he said, turning it over in his mind.

Ian covered his mouth for a moment, Hank couldn't tell because he was laughing or choking. "In a manner of speaking," he finally responded.

"Sir, may I assist you in any way?" The sub at the door looked like he had been attempting to get Ian's attention. "The stage is booked for the afternoon, but I have several cages available."

Ian shook his head. "Just meeting friends for lunch."

"I believe your group is in the back corner then," the sub dismissed them, probably having better things to do.

Hank noted the back held more tables and private booths. The action at the front would be visible, of course, but at least you didn't feel quite as much a part of it back here.

"Ian, over here!" A woman waved them over to a corner booth that consisted of large dark blue couches surrounded a table already filled with drinks. Three doms sat waiting, all of them wearing Guard uniforms, though only two had subs kneeling at their feet.

Hank swallowed, wondering if he was ready to meet Ian's coworkers. He hoped they'd give him a better reception than his had given Ian, back on the Mercury. Of course, the circumstances were different but there was always the very real possibility that he could fuck up and embarrass Ian. His training was far from complete after all. 

"Good day," Ian greeted them. He presented Hank with a little flourish. "This is my sub, Henry."

Three very different faces regarded him intently. Who knew what their shrewd little dom eyes were coming up with about him? Hank became incredibly conscious of the piercings in his nipples and the cool chain that hung across his chest.

"Harmony's tits, Ian, you've had him pierced already? You worried they're going to steal him back?" the woman who had called them over asked with a laugh. She had reddish brown hair pulled back tightly, giving her face a rather severe look, though her dark eyes were kind.

Ian touched his shoulder. "That is Guard Monica. Her sub Brian. Guard Evan and Sub Jessie and Guard Leo." He moved to join them, sitting across from Monica in one of the couches.

Hank swallowed and knelt at Ian's feet - so nice for the arrangement of table to allow for that. Even from here he got a nice view of the rest of the place, the subs on offer, the other doms at different tables, talking or watching. He squirmed, unhappy with having to kneel here for who knew how long. Despite the way the floor adjusted for his comfort, he still didn't like spending a lot of time on he knees.

"So this is what you've been spending all your time on?" the one Ian had called Evan took Hank by the chin and forced his head up. He was larger than Ian, had shoulders so broad they'd make a linebacker jealous. "They grow them pretty out in the stars."

Ian reached out and grabbed the other man's wrist. "Do not touch. Would you want me to treat Jessie in such a way?"

Evan pulled back his arm, rubbing his wrist with exaggerated care. "You know she'd like it." He reached down and pulled on the curly hair of the girl crouched at his feet.

Hank bit his tongue. These were Ian's friends and he wasn't going to embarrass him. Although if he had to take any more manhandling he was going to handle right back, he decided.

Monica smacked Evan on the arm. "Stop showing off. Wait till the stage is free like a normal dom."

"He's just sore he forgot to schedule it." Leo laughed. His blond hair fell into his eyes, making him look very young.

Hank noted the crowd gathering around the stage. Apparently the subs he had seen had finished their set up and were able to begin their show. He had no doubt a lot of nakedness would be involved.

"Why aren't you out there finding a sub to play with?" Evan grumbled at him.

"I'm having too much fun watching yours," Leo shot back. He picked up his drink and winked in Hank's direction.

Luckily Monica chose to ignore them. "We ordered lunch, if you want something?"

"Right." Ian looked like he was sketching on the table and Hank realized that must be how they ordered. He wondered if they had chicken wings here. Of course, that would depend on them having chickens.

The other male sub - Brian he remembered - looked up at him. He reminded Hank of Ackles - he was pretty, too pretty with large blue eyes and pouty lips, and he held himself military straight, with a perfect posture and artfully spread knees. However, he did look like he had about 30 pounds on Ackles, all that muscle constrained with leather straps in a really tiny kilt. Hank hated the kilts.

"You were on the raid against Pasdar?" Monica asked, breaking Hank out of his study of her sub who studied him right back with inscrutable eyes.

"We were," Ian answered, indicating Hank with one hand.

He had all eyes on him again. Hank tried to look charming.

"How did you take him? On a leash?"

"No, he went as a fully armed guard." Ian's tone was cold.

The guards looked at each other. "No sub can be a guard," Leo stuttered.

"Well I ain't your ordinary sub," Hank said.

That got their attention again. Damn it, he should know better than to mouth off. Hank winced and expected some kind of repercussion. He was surprised when he got laughter.

Ian stroked a hand through Hank's hair, ruffling it gently. "We can all see that, yes, Henry."

"They really do things that differently out there?" Monica seemed fascinated.

"Very differently," Ian answered. "Henry took me to his ship."

Stunned looks greeted that announcement. "What was it like?"

Ian shrugged. "Amazing in some ways. Rather humbling in others. There is nothing like seeing Harmony from beyond the heavens."

"Best be careful Ian, or you'll end up on the tele again," Evan said.

Ian made a face, but before he could answer a red-collared sub approached with a hovering cart of food and more drinks. She wore a dark red kilt to match, her perky breasts contained by little more than a strip of cloth across them, gold chains disappearing under the cloth and then connecting with the piercing at her belly. Her eyes were lowered as she set out the plates, a sweet smile on her lovely face. "Please ring if you need anything." Her voice was breathless and her eyes lingered on Leo before she backed away.

"You should give her a ring," Evan said to Leo who only answered that with a scowl.

Hank thought they really weren't that different from his friends. How many times had he heard Whitfield tell Kowalski that he needed to get laid? Their version of getting laid just didn't need a contract drawn up first.

"For you," Ian murmured, holding out a bit-sized piece of chicken that was covered with the sauce Hank had imagined. He'd known how the technology worked here, but hadn't expected it to pick up his thoughts while Ian had ordered. Hank leaned forward and took the bite out of Ian's fingers, licking away the sauce. He still hated being treated like this - he could damn well feed himself - but he appreciated the attempt at food he recognized.

"Is it true?" Monica asked during the lull in conversation, while they were all occupied with either eating or feeding their subs. "That things had gotten so bad in Pasdar?"

"Everyone is whispering about it," Leo chimed in.

"It was worse," Ian said. "I saw the duke's subs, nearly two hundred of them bound by the collar of the unwilling."

Monica shuddered. She drew her sub closer, keeping a hand on his shoulder. He nuzzled against her knee in response. "How could he?"

"I'd like to know why nobody noticed before now," Evan put in.

"Too caught up in ourselves," Ian said. The others all turned toward him. "I think that's why they," he gestured towards Hank, probably meant the entire UP with that gesture, "are good for us. Why the queen agreed to let them come here. We forget to look outside our little districts."

"You're rather philosophical today," Evan said, gesturing with his goblet of tye.

"He's just made a very public contract," Leo put in. Hank flushed, remembering how the entire city had been witness to his collaring. "I bet that'll make you think. Especially when its his first long term."

"I'm sitting right here," Ian protested.

Hank felt a surge of protectiveness rise up in him. He didn't want Ian to stay if his friends were hurting him. He slung an arm around one of Ian's legs, running his fingers up and down the smooth leather of his boots. Damn, he loved these boots, loved how they felt, how the smell lingered in his nose. Hank squirmed, unable to kneel still, he was till sore and slick from earlier.

Ian smiled down at him. "And I didn't bring Henry here to sit and talk all afternoon."

"No, there is plenty that needs a doing, right, Jessie?" Evan tilted the face of his sub up towards him. She was very pretty, delicate features and long blonde curls. Jessie blinked up at her master, pressing her perky breasts against his leg.

"Yes, master." She pouted. "I've been rather neglected."

"Cheeky girl." Evan pulled her up and bent her over his lap, pulling up her kilt to reveal her bare bottom.

Hank bit his lip, surprised at the arousal that coiled in his gut. He didn't expect that watching another sub get spanked would do it for him. Fuck, this place was getting to him more and more.

"Had enough?"

"No, master!"

And then Evan was up, his sub tossed over one shoulder as he carried her towards some of the equipment in the center of the room. Hank blinked in shock at Evan bound her to one of the giant wooden X's.

"That's how they are," Ian said softly.

"Like the way I never shut up?"

Ian laughed. "Like that."

"I'm happy for you," Leo said, breaking into the moment.

Monica slid over and touched his arm. "You'll find a sub of your own. It takes time. Not all of them magically fall from the stars."

Even Hank laughed at that.

"I'm glad you came, Ian," Monica said. "We've missed you."

"Yes," Leo agreed, "When do you return to the Guard?"

"I don't know. I was between assignments, so I'll have to speak to the master guard." Ian frowned. Hank wondered if he was still thinking of a way to get Hank into the guard.

"Well, don't disappear again," Monica lectured. "Your boy needs to see the city. Meet some other subs."

Ian frowned. "You're right. Perhaps you and Brian could come scene with us."

Hank sat ramrod straight. That wasn't what it sounded like, was it? He'd ask later, because if it was, he was definitely having a few words with Ian about it. Hank didn't share well. Monica's sub might be pretty enough, someone Hank might fuck around with under normal circumstances. But every time he pictured Ian making the other sub kneel, his gut burned.

If Ian could claim ownership of him, Hank decided he could put his own claim on Ian. He tightened his grip around Ian's boots. Mine, he thought, staring daggers at Brian.

The other sub gave him a knowing smile.

### V. New beginnings

Ian smiled against Hank's hair, breathing deeply the scent of sweat and the faintest traces of the sweet shampoo Hank used. He didn't wake before his sub often, so he decided to take advantage of the opportunity, slide his hand between Hank's legs, cupping his balls and rolling them gently.

"Mmrrrggg," Hank groaned, his hips shifting backward to meet Ian.

"How eloquent." Ian nuzzled beneath his ear, tasting salt. He moved his hand to stroke Hank's cock, feeling it swell at his touch. When he pinched the head slightly Hank yelped. "Mmm, imagine if I had you pierced here."

"Ian," Hank's eyes fluttered. "I don't. . ."

"Shh, just fantasizing," he soothed. Hank was clearly not ready for such a thing now. Ian couldn't help his desire, his fantasy to lead Hank around by a leash clipped to a cock piercing. He loved metal, the way it gleamed in Hank's skin, the silver a contrast to his golden tones.

With that thought in mind, he rolled Hank over onto his back, so Ian could suck one of the nipples into his mouth, the rod piercing hard against his tongue. Hank moaned and his cock dripped in Ian's hand. Ian flicked the other nipple, keeping them both tormented while he worked Hank's dick, his strokes moving faster.

"Ian," Hank gasped out, struggling to remain still, but unable to. He clutched the sheets in his hands, hips rising off of the bed to meet Ian's hand. "Close. I can't."

"Want to feel you come," Ian murmured, his lips still over Hank's chest. "Feel you pulse in my hand."

"Fucker," Hank gasped, his eyes clenched tight as he came, hot and slippery into Ian's palm.

"So good," Ian whispered, lifting his fingers to lick them clean. Hank moaned at the sight. He decided to share and let Hank have the rest, slipping his fingers inside his sub's mouth.

Hank put his arms around Ian, drawing him close and pressing kisses against his lips and chin. "What do you want?"

Ian shuddered. "Your mouth, always want your mouth."

"Only way to shut me up." Hank grinned before flipping them both over. How odd, to look up at his sub like this. But then Hank crawled backwards, his head and shoulders framed between Ian's spread legs. Ian dug his fingers into Hank's soft hair, holding on as Hank worked his cock. In this area at least, Hank needed no additional training.

He'd just have to worry about the rest of Hank's behavior when they visited his mother today. She could be. . .particular.

Ian arched up into Hank's mouth, gasping at the hot suction. As for himself? He didn't have a single complaint.

### ***

Hank could tell Ian was nervous. He hadn't stopped talking about protocol and proper stance since they left the apartment. They'd walked, instead of taking a tram, and now they strolled through a tall brick archway, into a circular courtyard with stairs all along the perimeter. As Ian led the way towards the steps, he kept up the monolog, reminding Hank of the pose a sub should assume when meeting someone for the first time.

Finally, he'd had enough. Hank put a hand on Ian's shoulder, stopping him from going any farther. "Ian," he said softly. They stood underneath the shadow of a leafy tree, surrounded by the greenery of the courtyard. No one else could see them. "You know me. I can do my best, but you know I haven't had years of training."

Ian frowned, his entire body deflating a bit. "Mother is rather particular. I want you to be prepared for that."

Hank tried a smile. "Look, I'm not the best when it comes to meet the parents. You have to give me a break here."

"You did just fine with Father and my sister." Ian returned the smile briefly. "Mother is not as lenient."

Great. "All right. I'll be good," he promised. Well, as good as he ever could be. Hank never got the manual, so most times Ian was the only guidance he had. And Ian had proved himself trustworthy so far. He just didn't like anything that made Ian nervous. It made Hank nervous too.

"I know you will." Ian gave him a nod and then led the way up to the circular stairs to the apartment levels.

Hank took a deep breath and then followed.

They were met at the door by a sub, a tall woman with curves in all the right places, wearing one of those off-the-shoulder tunics in deep red, the hem barely below her rounded ass. She was a bit too beautiful for Hank's taste, her features too angular almost freakish in their perfection. He noted her collar - a deep chocolate brown - as a matter of course by now.

She bowed deeply at Ian and gestured that they should enter. Only then did the door shimmer closed behind them. "Please have a seat, mistress will be with you shortly."

"Thank you, Megan." Ian smiled at her. She didn't return it, merely nodded and moved further back into the apartment.

Hank looked around the sitting room. He found it almost stark compared to the warmth of Ian's rooms. The furniture was designed on right angles and squares instead of curves, the colors pale and cold. Ian didn't sit, instead he remained standing, arms crossed over his chest. So Hank stood as well, a bit behind as was proper, though he had to fight the urge to fidget.

"Ian." A woman, presumably Ian's mother, entered the sitting room. Hank could see some of Ian in her, her dark intense eyes, her straight nose and careful bearing. Her hair had turned silver and was trimmed short around her ears. She held herself like most of the guards, shoulders back and stiff, looking so incongruous with the long flowing skirt she wore.

"Mother." Ian bent and kissed her cheek. "May I present my sub, Henry?"

She patted Ian's arm, squeezing it gently before stepping away. "You should have presented him to me days ago."

"I know," Ian said. "I apologize."

"Have him present for inspection."

Ian turned to him, an apology in his eyes as he ordered Hank to present standing. Hank dropped into position, spreading his legs, locking his fingers behind his neck and keeping his eyes lowered. Ian's mother - Guard Elisa - circled him, making huffing noises under her breath.

"He's certainly pretty enough," she said, coming to stand next to Ian, still regarding Hank with intense eyes. "But hardly worth making a spectacle of yourself over."

Hank wondered if his own mother would have been so critical, maybe if she had lived to see him grow up. He barely remembered his parents now, they were just pictures in his memory, less real than the actual vids he had in his digital frames back at Ian's apartment.

"Mother," Ian said.

"Still, it's better than if you had brought home one of those red-bands you were always carrying on with."

Ian blushed, his cheeks nearly crimson. Hank bit his lip to keep from smiling, he'd never seen Ian blush before.

"You may go to the kitchens to help Megan serve," Elisa ordered him and motioned behind her.

Hank stepped to obey, nearly offering a salute. Damn, that woman had presence. He found the kitchen easily; glad to be out of her gaze for the moment. "I'm here to help," he said to Megan, who was arranging food on a tray.

She turned and gave him a smile. Now that he liked, it made her look more human instead of like a creepy doll. "Can you handle the pitcher and the glasses?"

"I think I can do that." Hank sniffed at the contents of the pitcher - tye as usual. He wondered if anyone drank anything else. Like coffee. He missed coffee more than he thought he would, second only to beer, which he had a craving for just last night. Maybe he could talk Ian into suggesting a drink trade with the UP.

"She's mostly harmless," Megan said, hefting the rather large tray with one hand. "Just be sure not to drop anything."

Well, crap. Hank took the tray with the goblets and the pitcher, and followed the girl back into the sitting room. Megan offered the platter to her mistress first before Ian, and then she placed it on the table in the center, kneeling at her mistress's side. Hank paused, who was he supposed to go to first, his master or the mistress of the house? He gave Ian a panicked look.

Ian's eyes flickered over to his mother and Hank moved quickly. He sloshed a little bit of the liquid, but managed not to spill anything on Guard Elisa. For once it was a relief to finally kneel beside Ian, his serving duties completed.

"You might want to send him for more training," Elisa said. "Might give him more. . . elegance in his movement."

"I'm not looking for elegance," Ian said.

Thanks a lot, Ian, Hank thought, keeping his words to himself. For once.

"Then what are you looking for, Ian?" Elisa sounded tired, as if they had been through this before. Hank wondered how many of Ian's subs had been presented to her. Had any of them met her high standards?

"Henry," Ian said. "Henry is everything I was looking for, but could not find in Harmony."

Hank looked up at him, startled out of his proper pose. Ian smiled at him and gave him a slight nod. He felt warmth rush into his face, to the tips of his ears.

"I blame your father." Elisa shook her head. "You were always looking for the impossible."

He didn't quite understand that comment, but from the angry look on Ian's face, he did. Hank wished he could jump in, say something to deflect the conversation, but he couldn't speak unless spoken to, or given permission by Ian. And he'd promised to follow the rules this time.

"It's not. . ." Ian began, his voice hard.

A screen flickered to life in front of them, the tele flashing with a message for 'Guard Ian and Sub Henry.' Henry perked up, wondering at being included.

"Go ahead," Ian told the screen, probably just as glad for the interruption as Hank.

The screen flickered to life, showing a sub Henry didn't know. "Guard Ian. Sub Henry. Please come to the queen's court as your earliest convenience," the sub said just before the screen blacked out.

"Pre-recorded," Ian explained, frowning at the summons. Hank understood that. He couldn't think of any reason the queen would need to see them, unless it had to do with the base or the UP.

"Trouble?" Elisa asked, her face grim.

"I don't know," Ian frowned. "We need to go."

"Megan, summon a tram for them. It'll be quicker this way," Elisa explained as the sub scampered to obey.

"Thank you," Ian said, still holding himself stiffly.

Elisa touched his cheek gently, looking sad herself. "You've never been one to settle," she said. "I want the best for you. You know that?"

"I do. But mother, you'll just have to trust me, about Henry."

"I suppose I must."

### ***

"So was it me, or any sub you brought home in general?"

Ian sighed at Hank's words. At least he'd waited till they boarded the tram to speak. He combed his fingers through Hank's hair, soothed by the repetitive motion. "I've always been picky," he explained. "No sub she brought to my attention was ever good enough. I resorted to spending time with red bands. . ."

"Itch to scratch, I gotcha."

"And then I find you." Ian sat back, watching the palace come into view through the opposite window. "I've never felt strongly enough about a sub to stake a claim."

"So what you did at the Choosing was a fucking big deal." Hank put his hand on Ian's knee. "I didn't realize. . ."

Ian shook his head. "You didn't know. You were dropped into our world with hardly any explanation. I knew I had to act fast or you would be gone."

Hank didn't answer at first and Ian wondered if Hank would have preferred that Ian not said anything at all. Then he'd be back on his ship heading for wherever they were going next.

"I didn't appreciate it at the time," Hank finally said. "I thought you were just being an asshole."

Ian laughed so hard he nearly fell off his seat. And that's when they docked, the tram's doors opening to a lovely terrace with marble pillars and carefully cut greenery. He stifled his laughter as best he could, reminding himself that the queen had summoned him and Hank. What did she want of them?

One of the queen's pages, a boy without a collar, greeted them as they stepped off of the tram onto the slick marble. "Welcome. The queen is expecting you."

"Hey kid." Hank grinned at the boy. He must have had more contact with the page than Ian, from his time as a prisoner in the palace. "Do you know why?"

The boy smiled back and shook his head. "Just that I'm to lead you to where she is holding court. Come."

Ian had never been to court. He never hoped to rank so high as to be in on one of the law making sessions. The best he could have reached for was a promotion to the Queen's Guard. But his entire life he'd been a street guard, nothing more.

They stepped inside the palace, through a set of iron and glass doors, into one of the many receiving rooms. The queen would be in her great hall, he guessed, although Ian would have preferred one of these tiny rooms. It wasn't empty, a dom and his sub waited for them near the door.

"Major Tappen," the dom said.

Ian blinked, surprised at hearing a dom address Henry in such a way. He spoke before his sub. "Excuse me?"

The other man looked embarrassed and his sub closed her eyes, a bright pink blush spreading over her cheeks. "Pardon me," he said, attempting to fix his mistake. "We're the team from the UP. Lieutenant Hodge," he pointed to himself and then gestured to his girl. "Captain Kristen Bell."

"Now that's interesting," Hank murmured. "Are you the reason the queen summoned us?"

"Not quite," the girl answered. Sub Kristen. Ian really wished her dom had addressed them both properly. "We just wanted to introduce ourselves. We're still working on fitting in here."

"What happened with Ackles?" Hank asked.

"He's been sent on another mission," Hodge shrugged. "They need him."

"So they just kinda threw you guys in here?" Hank's smile looked more mischievous than usual. "I might be able to give you a pointer or two."

Ian coughed. "I believe we have an appointment with the queen?"

"Of course."

### ***

The queen sat on a throne, her sub kneeling at her feet, just as she had when she'd sentenced Hank and Karl to be taken and trained. Hank swallowed, his good mood from speaking with Hodge and Bell all but vanished at that sight. No matter how good things were with Ian now, Hank knew here he was seen as property. Highly valued, apparently, but still property. He didn't think she'd take him from Ian, but Hank didn't know that.

There were others in the room, more doms and subs, guards at every entrance. Hank wondered who exactly made up the 'court' and what the hell they did. He looked around for familiar faces, but didn't recognize anyone here, other than Colin and the queen's kids who stood with her on the little stage.

Colin ran up to the queen, bowed and announced them. The queen trained her gaze their way and Hank never felt so much like an ant. And he'd been worried about Ian's mom?

"Come forward, Guard Ian, Sub Henry," she said. The crowd quieted. "Thank you for coming at such short notice. We needed to ask a favor and it could not wait any longer."

Ian bowed and answered. "Of course, mistress."

Hank tried to remember the proper pose, but his mind went blank. He fell into standing presentation, figuring it couldn't exactly hurt.

"Both of you were intimately involved with our difficulties in the former Pasdar district," she began. "I am sending my daughter, the princess Alona, to heal the district. She is putting together her court of advisors. I wish for you both to be part of that court."

Hank looked at Ian, excitement pooling in his belly. This would be an incredible mission, cleaning up the mess that bastard of a duke had left behind.

"Mistress," Ian finally spoke, and Hank had no idea what he would say. "Why have you chosen us?" And that was a good question. There were plenty of other guards who had been on that mission. What made them special?

"Many reasons, Guard, but the most compelling is because of your unusual pairing. Sub Henry is not from Harmony. He would provide insights we have not considered before."

Then the princess stepped forward. "I share my mother's opinion on this. So much is at stake, so many subs have been hurt. I think you both have much to contribute. And I value the experience you have already had."

"I need a few moments to speak with Sub Henry."

The queen nodded. "You may use the alcove room."

Hank followed Ian, wondering what was going through his head. They moved into a tiny room off to the side of the main hall. He closed the curtain behind them and turned. "Tell me you're going to say yes?"

"Was that a question?"

Hank rolled his eyes. "I think we should do it."

Ian frowned. "Are you saying that because you truly wish to help or because you're bored?"

He didn't want Ian to think he hated all of their time together. Honestly, Hank hadn't been bored, he'd been far too busy with Ian. He only feared what would happen when Ian went back to the guard. "I do want to help," and he did. He remembered Karl, how devastated and lost his friend had been, a former slave caught up in a society that had triggered all of his pain. The subs in Pasdar weren't that different. "And I think it's something we can do together. I mean, I'll still be your sub, but, it'll matter."

Ian cupped his palms around Hank's face and drew him in for a kiss. "If you truly want to, I will agree then."

Hank had a sudden thought. "What about you?" he asked. "If you don't want to?"

"Hank," Ian smiled, using his nickname for a change. "You're right, it's a good situation for us. And I remember Pasdar. I will do anything I can to help."

And that made everything okay. "Well, then," Hank grinned. "Let's give 'em hell."

"I think I'd better do the accepting."

Spoilsport.


End file.
